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ASTORIA 



OR 



iKECDOTES of an ENTEEPRISE 



¥ 



BEYOND THE 



EOCKY MOUNTAINS. 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING, 



NEW YORK : 

,WORTHINGTON CO 
747 Broadway. 



8V^ 







EXCHANGE \ 



,... --iJ 




TBOW'8 

fRINTINa AND BOOKBINOINQ COMPANY, 

NCW YORK. 






INTRODUCTION. 



In the course of occasional visits to Canada many years 
since, I became intimately acquainted with some of the prin- 
cipal partners of the great Northwest Fur Company, who at 
that time lived in genial style at Montreal, and kept almost 
open house for the stranger. At their hospitable boards I 0( ca- 
sionally met with partners, and clerks, and hardy fur traders 
from the interior posts; men who had passed years remote 
from civilized society, among distant and savage tribes, and 
who had wonders to recount of their wide and wild peregrina- 
tions, their hunting exploits, and their perilous adventures and 
hair-breadth escapes among the Indians. I was at an age 
when imagination lends its coloring to every thing, and the 
stories of these Sinbads of the wilderness made the life of a 
trapper and fur trader perfect romance to me. I even medi- 
tated at one time a visit to the remote posts of the company in 
the boats which annually ascended the lakes and rivers, being 
thereto invited by one of the partners ; and I have ever since 
regretted that I was prevented by circumstances from carry- 
ing my intention into effect. From those early impressions, 
the grand enterprises of the great fur companies, and the 
hazardous errantry of their associates in the wild parts of our 
vast continent, have always been themes of charmed interest 
to me ; and I have felt anxious to get at the details of their ad- 
venturous expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled 
the depths of the wilderness. » 

About two years ago, not long after my return from a tour 
upon the prairies of the far West, I had a conversation with my 
friend, Mr. John Jacob Astor, relative to that portion of our 
country, and to the adventurous traders to Santa Fe and the 
Columbia. This led him to advert to a great enterprise set on 
foot and conducted by him, between twenty and thirty years 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

since, having for its object to carry the fu" trade across the 
Eocky Mountains, and to sweep the shores of the Pacific. 

Finding that I took an interest in the subject, he expressed 
a regret that the time nature and extent of his enterprise and 
its national character and importance had never been under- 
stood, and a wish that I would undertake to give an account 
of it. The suggestion struck upon the chord of early associa= 
tions, already vibrating in my mind. It occurred to me that 
a work of this kind might comprise a variety of those curious 
details, so interesting to me, illustrative of the fur trade ; of its 
remote and adventurous enterprises, and of the various people, 
and tribes, and castes, and characters, civilized and savage, 
affected by its operations. The journals, and letters also, of 
the adventurers by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his 
comprehensive project, might throw light upon portions of our 
country quite out of the track of ordinary travel, and as yet 
but little known. I therefore felt disposed to undertake the 
task, provided documents of sufficient extent and minuteness 
could be furnished to me. All the papers relative to the en- 
terprise were accordingly submitted to my inspection. Among 
them were journals and letters narrating expeditions by sea, 
and journeys to and fro across the Kocky Mountains by routes 
before untravelled, together with documents illustrative of 
savage and colonial life on the borders of the Pacific. With 
such materials in hand, I undertook the work. The trouble of 
rummaging among business papers, and of collecting and col- 
lating facts from amid tedious and commonplace details, was 
spared me by my nephew, Pierre M. Irving, who acted as my 
pioneer, and to whom I am greatly indebted for smoothing my 
path and lightening my labors. 

As the journals on which I chiefly depended had been kept 
by men of business, intent upon the main object of the enter- 
prise, and but little versed in science, or curious about matters 
not inunediately bearing upon their interests, and as they were 
written often in moments of fatigue or hurry, amid the incon- 
veniences of wild encampments, they were often meagre in 
their details, furnishing hints to provoke rather than narra- 
tives to satisfy inquiry. I have, therefore, availed myself 
occasionally of collateral lights supplied by the published jour- 
nals of other travellers who have visited the scenes described : 
such as Messrs. Lewis and Clarke, Bradbury, Breckenridge, 
Long, Franchere, and Ross Cox, and make a general acknowl- 
edgment of aid received from these Quarters. 



INTRODUCTION. ■ 5 

The work I here present to the public is necessarily of a 
rambling and somewhat disjointed nature, comprising various 
expeditions and adventures by land and sea. The facts, how- 
-Qver, will prove to be linked and banded together by one 
grand scheme, devised and conducted by a master spirit ; one 
v>et of characters, also, continues throughout, appearing occa- 
sionally, though sometimes at long intervals, and the whole 
enterprise winds up by a regular catastrophe; so that the 
work, without any labored attempt at artificial construction, 
actually possesses much of that unity so much sought after in 
work^ of fictior, cird c^L^Qide'^ed so important to the interest of 



CONTENTS. 



fAGE 

Introduction 3 



CHAPTER I. 

Objects of American enterprise — gold hunting and fur trading — their effect on 
colonization — early French Canadian settlers — Ottowa and Huron hunters — 
an Indian trading camp— coiuiers des bois, or rangers of the woods — their 
roaming life— their revels and excesses — licensed traders — missionaries — trad- 
ing posts — primitive French Canadian merchant — his establishment and de- 
pendants — British Canadian fur merchant — origin of the Northwest Company 
— its constitution — its internal trade — a candidate for the company — privations 
in the wilderness — northwest clerks — northwest partners— a northwest nabob 
— feudal notions in the forest — the lords of the lakes — Fort William — its par- 
liamentary hall and banqueting room — was sailing in the wilderness 17 



CHAPTER II. 

Rise of the Mackinaw Company— attempt of the American government to 
counteract foreign influence over the Indian tribes — John Jacob Astor — his 
birth-place— his arrival in the United States— what first turned his attention 
to the fur trade — his character, enterprises, and success — his communications 
with the American government— origin of the American Fur Company 26 



CHAPTER m. 

Fur trade in the Pacific — American coasting voyages— Russian enterprises— dis- 
covery of the Columbia River — Carver's project to found a settlement there — 
Mackenzie's expedition — Lewis and Clarke's journey across the Rocky Moun- 
tains — Mr. Astor's grand commercial scheme— his correspondence on the sub- 
ject with Mr. Jefferson — his negotiations with the Northwest Company — his 
steps to carry his scheme into effect 3d 



CHAPTER IV. 

Two expeditions set on foot — the Tonquin and her crew- Captain Thorn, his 
character — the partners and clerks— Canadian voyageurs, their habits, em- 
ployments, dress, character, songs— expedition of a Canadian boat and its 
crew by land and water — arrival at New York — preparations for a sea voyage — 
northwest braggarts— underhand precautions— letter of instructions ^ 



8 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 

PAGE 

Sailing of the Tonquin— a rigid commander and a reckless crew— landsmen on 
shipboard— fresh-water sailors at sea— lubber nests— ship fare— a Labrador 
veteran — literary clerks — curious travellers — Robinson Crusoe's Island — 
quarter-deck quarrels— Falkland Islands — a wild goose chase— Port Egmont — 
epitaph hunting— Old Mortality —penguin shooting— sportsmen left in the 
lurch— a hard pull— f m-ther altercations— arrival at Owyhee 46 

CHAPTER VI. 

Owyhee— Sandwich Islanders— their nautical talents— Tamaahrnaah— his navy 
— his negotiations — views of Mr. Astor with respect to the Sandwich Islands — 
Karakakora— royal monopoly of pork— description of the islanders— gayeties 
on shore— chronicler of the island — place where Captain Cook was killed — 
John Young, a nautical governor— his story— Waititi— a royal residence— a 
royal visit— grand ceremonials— close dealing — a royal pork merchant — griev- 
ances of a matter-of-fact man 54 

CHAPTER Vn. 

Departure from the Sandwich Islands — misunderstandings — miseries of a sus- 
picious man— arrival at the Columbia — dangerous service — gloomy apprehen- 
sions—bars and breakers— perils of the ship— disasters of a boafs crew- 
burial of a Sandwich Islander 64 

CHAPTER Vin. 

Mouth of the Columbia— the native tribes— their fishing— their canoes— bold 
navigators— equestrian Indians and piscatoiy Indians, difference in their phy- 
sical organization — search for a trading site — expedition of M'Dougal and 
David Stewart — Comcomly, the one-eyed chieftain — influence of wealth in 
savage life— slavery among the natives — an aristocracy of Flatheads — hospi- 
tality among the Chinooks — Comcomly's daughter — her conquest 70 

CHAPTER IX. 

Point George — foimding of Astoria — Indian visitors — their reception — the cap- 
tain taboos the ship — departure of the Tonquin— comments on the conduct of 
Captain Thorn 75 

CHAPTER X. 

Disquieting rumors from the interior — reconnoitering party— preparations for a 
trading post — an unexpected arrival — a spy in the camp — expedition into the 
interior — shores of the Columbia — Mount Coffin — Indian Sepulchre — the land 
of spirits — Columbian valley — Vancouver's Point — falls and rapids — a great 
fishing mart — the village of Wish-ram — difference between fishing Indians and 
hunting Indians — effect of habits of trade on the Indian character— post estab- 
lished at the Oakinagan 78 

CHAPTER XI. 

Alarm at Astoria— rumor of Indian hostilities— preparations for defence— tragi- 
cal fate of the Tonquin 86 



CONTENTS. - 9 



CHAPTER Xn. 

PAGE 

Gloom at Astoria— an ingenious stratagem — the small-pox chief— laimching of 
the Dolly — an arrival — a Canadian trapper — a freeman of the forest — an Iro- 
quois hunter — winter on the Columbia — festivities of New Year 94 

CHAPTER Xm. 

Expedition by land— Wilson P. Hunt — his character— Donald M'Kenzie— recruit- 
ing service among the voyageurs — a bark ^canoe — chapel of St. Anne — votive 
oflferiags — pious carousals — a ragged regiment — Mackinaw — picture of a trad- 
ing post — frolicking voyageurs— swells and swaggers— Indian coxcombs— a 
man of the north — jockeyship of voyageurs — inefficacy of gold — weight of a 
feather— Mr. Ramsay Crooks — his character— his risks among the Indians — his 
warning concerning the Sioux and Blackfeet — embarkation of recruits — part- 
ing scenes between brothers, cousins, wives, sweethearts and pot companions. 



99 



CHAPTER XIV. 



St. Louis— its situation— motley population— French Creole traders and their 
dependants— Missouri Fur Company— Mr. Manuel Lisa— Mississippi boatmen 
— vagrant Indians— Kentucky hunters— .old French mansion — fiddling— bil- 
liards — Mr. Joseph Miller— his character— recruits— voyage up the Missouri- 
difficulties of the river — merits of Canadian voyageurs — arrival at the Nodo- 
wa— Mr. Robert M'Lellan joins the party— John Day, a Virginia hunter— de- 
scription of him— Mr. Hvmt returns to St. Louis 106 

CHAPTER XV. 

Opposition of the Missouri Fur Company— Blackfeet Indians— Pierre Dorion, a 
half-breed interpreter— old Dorion and his hybrid progeny— family quarrels — 
cross purposes between Dorion and Lisa — renegadoes fromNodowa — perplexi- 
ties of a commander — Mesf.rs. Bradbury and Nuttall join the expedition — legal 
embarrassments of Pierre Doi'ion — departure from St. Louis— conjugal disci- 
pline of a half breed — annual swelling of the rivers — Daniel Boon, the patri- 
arch of Kentucky — John Colter — his adventures among the Indians — rumors 
of danger ahead — Fort Osage— an Indian war -feast— troubles in the Dorion 
family -Buffaloes and tm-key-buzzards Ill 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Return of spring— appearance of snakes— great flights of wUd pigeons— re- 
newal of the voyage — night encampments — Platte River — ceremonials on pass- 
ing it — signs of Indian war parties— magnificent prospect at Papillion Creek — 
desertion of two hunters — an irruption into the camp of Indian desperadoes — 
village of the Omahas— anecdotes of the tribe— feudal wars of the Indians — 
story of Blackbird, the famous Omaha chief 121 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Rumors of danger from the Sioux Tetons — ruthless character of those savages 
— pirates of the Missouri — their affair with Crooks and M'Lellan — a trading 
expedition broken up — M'Lellan's vow of vengeance — uneasiness in the camp 
— desertions — departure from the Om aha, village— meeting with Jones and 



10 CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

Carson, two adventurous trappers— scientific pursuits of Messrs. Bradbury 
and Nuttall— zeal of a botanist— adventure of Mr. Bradbury with a Ponca In- 
dian — expedient of the pocket compass and microscope — a messenger from 
Lisa— motives for pressing forward 131 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Camp gossip— deserters— recruits— Kentucky hunters— a veteran woodman — 
tidings of Mr. Henry— danger from the Blaclif eet — alteration of plans— scen- 
ery of the river— buffalo roads— iron ore— country of the Sioux— a land of dan- 
ger—apprehensions of the voyageurs— Indian scouts— threatened hostilities — 
a council of war— an array of battle— a parley— the pipe of peace— speech- 
making 138 

CHAPTER XIX. 

j.ne great bend of the Missouri— Crooks and M'Lellan meet with two of their In- 
dian opponents — wanton outrage of a white man the cause of Indian hostilities 
—dangers and precautions— an Indian war party — dangerous situation of Mr. 
Hunt— a friendly encampment— feasting and dancing- approach of Manuel 
Lisa and his party— a grim meeting between old rivals— Pierre Dorion in a 
fury— a burst of chivalry 146 

CHAPTER XX. 

S'eatures of the wilderness— herds of buffalo— antelopes — their varieties and 
habits — John Day — his hunting stratagem — interview with three Arickaras — 
negotiations between the rival parties— the Left-handed and the Big Man, two 
Arickara chiefs— Arickara village— its inhabitants— ceremonials on landing — 
a council lodge— grand conference— speech of Lisa— negotiation for horses — 
shrewd suggestion of Gray Eyes, an Arickara chief— encampment of the trad- 
ing parties 152 

CHAPTER XXI. 

An Indian horse fair— love of the Indians for horses— scenes in the Arickara vil- 
lage—Indian hospitality— duties of Indian women— game habits of the men— 
their indolence— love of gossiping— rumors of lurking enemies— scouts— an 
alarm— a sallying forth— Indian dogs— return of a horse-stealing party— an 
Indian deputation— fresh alarms— return of a successful war party— dress of 
the Arickaras— Indian toilet— triumphal entry of the war party— meetings of 
relations and friends— Indian sensibihty- meeting of a wounded warrior and 
his mother— festivities and lamentations 159 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Wilderness of the Far West— great American desertr— parched seasons— Black 
Hills— Rocky Mountains— wandering and predatory hordes— speculations on 
what may be the futm-e population— apprehended dangers— a plot to desert 
—Rose the interpreter— his sinister character— departure from the Arickara 
village 167 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Summer weather of the prairies— purity of the atmosphere— Canadians on the 
march- sickness in the camp— Big River— vulgar nomenclature— suggestion" 



CONTENTS, U 

PAOK 

about the original Indian names— camp of Cheyennes— trade for horses — 
character of the Cheyennes— their horsemanship— historical anecdotes of the 
tribe 171 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

New distribution of horses — secret information of treason in the camp— Rose 
the interpreter— his perfidious character— his plots— anecdotes of the Crow In- 
dians-notorious horse-stealers— some account of Rose — a desperado of the 
frontier 175 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Substitute for fuel on the prairies — fossil trees — fierceness of the buffaloes when 
in heat — three hunters missing— signal fires and smokes— uneasiness concern- 
ing the lost men— a plan to forestall a rogue— new arrangement with Rose — 
return of the wanderers 178 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Black Mountains— haunts of predatory Indians— their wild and broken ap- 
pearance — superstition concerning them — thunder spirits singular noises in 
the mountains— secret mines — hidden treasures — mountains in labor— scientifie 
explanation— impassable defiles— black-tailed deer— the bighorn or ahsahta— . 
prospect from a lofty height — plain with herds of buffalo— distant peaks of 
the Rocky Mountains— alarms in the camp— tracks of grizzly bears — danger- 
ous nature of this animal — adventures of WiUiam Cannon and John Day with 
grizzly bears j 182 

CHAPTER XXVn. 

Indian trail— rough mountain travelling— sufferings from hunger and thirst — 
Powder River— game in abundance— a hunter's paradise— mountain peak seen 
at a great distance — one of the Big Horn chain— Rocky Mountains— extent — 
appearance— height — the great American desert— various characteristics of 
the mountains — Indian superstitions concerning them — land of souls — towns 
of the free and generous spirits— happy hunting grounds 188 

CHAPTER XXVin. 

Region of the Crow Indians— scouts on the lookout— visit from a crew of hard 
riders— a Crow camp— presents to the Crow chief— bargaining— Crow bullies — 
Rose among his Indian friends— parting with the Crows— perplexities among 
the mountains— more of the Crows— equestrian children— search after strag- 
glers 19il 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Mountain glens— wandering band of savages— anecdotes of Shoshonies and Flat- 
heads— root diggers— their solitary lurking habits— gnomes of the mountains- 
Wind River— scarcity of food— alteration of route— the Pilot Knobs or Tetons 
—branch of the Colorado— hunting camp jgg 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A plentiful hunting camp— Shoshonie hunters— Hoback's River — Mad River — 
encampment near the Pilot Knobs — a consultation — preparations for a peril- 
ous voyage 202 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A consultation whether to proceed by land or water — preparations for boat- 
building—an exploring party— a party of trappers detached— two Snake visi- 
tors — their report concerning the river — confirmed by the exploring party — 
Mad River abandoned— arrival at Henry's Fort — detachment of Robinson, Ho- 
back and Rezner to trap— Mr. Miller resolves to accompany them— their de- 
parture 204 

CHAPTER XXXn. 

Scanty fare— a mendicant Snake— embarkation on Henry River— joy of the 
voyageurs— arrival at Snake River— rapids and breakers— beginning of mis- 
fortunes—Snake encampments— parley with a savage— a second disaster— loss 
of a boatman— the Caldron Linn 210 

CHAPTER XXXin. 

Gloomy council— exploring parties— discouraging reports— disastrous experi- 
ment—detachments in quest of succor — caches, how made — return of one of 
the detachments— unsuccessful— further disappointments— the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole 215 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Determination of the party to proceed on foot — dreary deserts between Snake 
River and the Columbia — distribution of effects preparatory to a march- 
division of the party— rugged march along the river— wild and broken scenery 
— Shoshonies — alarm of a Snake encampment — intercourse with the Snakes — 
horse-dealing— value of a tin kettle— sufferings from thirst — a horse reclaimed 
— fortitude of an Indian woman— scarcity of food — dog's flesh a dainty — news 
of Mr. Crooks and his party — painful travelling among the mountains— snow- 
storms— a dreary mountain prospect — a bivouac during a wintry night — re- 
turn to the river bank 220 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

An unexpected meeting— navigation in a skin canoe— strange fears of suffering 
men— hardships of Mr. Crooks and his comrades— tidings of M'Lellan— a retro- 
grade march— a willow raft — extreme suffering of some of the party— illness 
of Mr. Crooks— impatience of some of the men— necessity of leaving the lag- 
gards behind 228 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Illr. Hunt overtakes the advanced party— Pierre Dorion, and his skeleton horse 
— a Shoshonie camp— a justifiable outrage— feasting on horse flesh — Mr. 
Crooks brought to the camp— undertakes to relieve his men— the skin ferry- 
boat—frenzy of Prevost — his melancholy fate— enfeebled state of John Day — 



CONTENTS. 13 

PAGE 

Mr. Crooks again left behind— the party emerge from among the mountains — 
interview with Shoshonies — a guide procured to conduct the party across a 
mountain— ferriage across Snake River— reunion with Mr. Crooks's men- 
final departure from the river 232 

CHAPTER XXXVn. 

Departure from the Snake River— mountains to the north— wayworn travellers 
— an increase of the Dorion family — a camp of Shoshonies — a New- Year festi- 
val among the Snakes— a wintry march through the mountains — a sunny 
prospect and milder climate— Indian horse-tracks— grassy valleys— a camp of 
Sciatogas— joy of the travellers— dangers of abundance- habits of the Scia- 
togas— fate of Carriere— the Umatalla— arrival at the banks of the Columbia 
— tidings of the scattered members of the expedition— scenery on the Colum- 
bia—tidings of Astoria— arrival at the falls 237 

CHAPTER XXXVni. 

The village of Wish-ram —roguery of the inhabitants— their habitations — tidings 
of Astoria— of the Tonquin massacre — thieves about the camp — a band of 
braggarts— embarkation— arrival at Astoria— a joyful reception— old comrades 
— adventures of Reed, M'Lellan, and M'Kenzie among the Snake River Moun- 
tains — rejoicing at Astoria , 345 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Scanty fare during the winter— a poor hunting ground— the return of the fishing 
season — the uthlecan or smelt — its qualities— vast shoals of it— sturgeon — In- 
dian modes of taking it— the salmon — different species— nature of the coun- 
try about the coast — forests and forest trees— a remarkable flowering vine — 
animals— birds— reptiles— climate west of the mountains— mildness of tem- 
perature—soil of the coast and the interior 251 

CHAPTER XL. 

>^atives in the neighborhood of Astoria— their persons and characteristics— 
ijause? of deformitj^- their dress— their contempt of beards— ornaments- 
armor and weapons— mode of flattening the head— extent of the custom — 
religious belief— the two great spirits of the air and of the fire— priests or 
medicine men— the rival idols— polygamy a cause of greatness— petty wayfare 
— music, dancing, gambhng— thieving a virtue— keen traders— intrusive habits 
— abhorrence of drunkenness — anecodote of Comcomly 255 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Spring arrangements e.t Astoria— various expeditions set out — the Long Nar- 
rows — pilfering Indians — thievish tribe at Wish-ram — portage at the falls^ 
portage by moonlight — an attack, a root, and a robbery— Indian cure for 
cowardice— a parley and compromise— the dispatch party turn back— meet 
Crooks aad John Day— their sufferings— Indian perfidy— arrival at Astoria.. 26} 

CHAPTER XLII. 

Comprehor»3Jve views — to supply the Russian fur establishment — an agent sent 
to Rusaia— project of an annual ship— the Beaver fitted out — her equipment 



14 CONTENTS. 

PAOR 

and crew— instructions to the captain— the Sandwich Islands— rumors of the 
fate of the Tonquin— precautions on reacliing the mouth of the Columbia . . . 269 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

Active operations at Astoria— various expeditions fitted out — Robert Stuart and 
a party destined for New Yoi'k— singular conduct of John Day— his fate- 
piratical pass and hazardous portage— rattlesnakes— their abhorrence of 
tobacco — arrival among the Wallah-Wallahs— purchase of horses — departure 
of Stuart and his band for the moimtains 272 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

Route of Mr. Stuart — dreary wilds— thirsty travelling— a grove and streamlet — 
the Blue Mountains— a fertile plain with rivulets— sulphur spring — I'oute 
along Snake River— rumors of white men — the Snake and his horse — a Snake 
guide — a midnight decampment — unexpected meeting with old comrades- 
story of trappers' hardships— Salmon Falls — a great fishery— mode of spear- 
ing salmon— arrival at the Caldron Linn— state of the caches — new resolution 
of the three Kentucky trappers 278 

CHAPTER XLV. 

The Snake River deserts— scanty fare— bewildered travellers— prowling Indians 
—a giant Crow chief — a bully rebuked— Indian signals— smoke on the moun- 
tains—Mad River— an alarm— an Indian foray— a scamper— a rude Indian joke 
—fa, sharpshooter balked of his shot 288 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

Travellers unhorsed— pedestrian preparations— prying spies— bonfire of bag- 
gage—a march on foot— rafting a river — the wounded elk— Indian trails— wil- 
ful conduct of Mr. M'Lellan— grand prospect from a mountain — distant craters 
of volcanoes— Illness of Mr. Crooks 294 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

Ben Jones and a grizzly bear— rocky heights — mountain torrents— traces of 
M'Lellan — volcanic remains — mineral earths — peculiar clay for pottery — 
dismal plight of M'Lellan— starvation— shocking proposition of a desperate 
man — a broken-down bull — a ravenous meal — Indian graves— hospitable Snakes 
— a forlorn alliance 300 



CHAPTER XLVin. 

Spanish River scenery — trial of Crow Indians — a snow-storm — a rousing fire 
and a buffalo feast — a plain of salt — climbing a mountain — volcanic summit 
— extinguished crater— marine shells — encampment on a prairie — successful 
hunting — good cheer— romantic scenery — rocky defile — foaming rapids — the 
fiery narrows 30f 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

Wintry storms— a halt and council— cantonment for the winter — fine hunting 
country — game of the mountains and plains— successful hunting— Mr. Crooks 



CONTKIylTS. 15 

PAGE 

and a grizzly bear — the wigwam — bighorn and blacktails — beef and venison — 
good quarters and good cheer— an alarm — an intrusion — unwelcome guests — 
desolation of the larder — gormandizing exploits of hungry savages — good 
quartei'S abandoned 312 

CHAPTER L. 

Rough wintry travelling — hills and plains — snow and ice — disappearance of 
game— a vast dreary plain — a second halt for the winter^ — another wigwam — 
New Year's feast — buffalo humps, tongues, and marrow bones— return of 
spring — launch of canoes — bad navigation — pedestrian march — vast prairies — 
deserted camps— Pawnee squaws — an Otto Indian — news of war — voyage 
down the Platte and the Missouri — reception at Fort Osage — arrival at St. 
Louis 318 



CHAWER LI. 

Agreement between Mr. Astor and the Russian Fur Company— war between the 
United States and Great Britain — instructions to Captain Sowle of the Beaver 
—fitting out of the Larli— news of the arrival of Mr. Stuart 334 

CHArTER LII. 

Banks of the Wallah-Wallah— departure of David Stuart for the Oakinagan— 
Mr. Clarke's route up Lewis River — Chipunnish, or Pierced-nose Indians — 
their character, appearance, and habits — thievish habits — laying up of the 
boats — post at Pointed Heart and Spokan Rivers— M'Kenzie, his route up the 
Camoenura— bands of travelling Indians— expedition of Reed to the caches — 
adventm'es of wandering voy agetu's and trappers 328 

CHAPTER LHI. 

Departure of Mr. Hunt in the Beaver— precautions at the factory— detachment 
to the Wallamut — gloomy apprehensions— arrival of M'Kenzie — affairs at 
Shahaptan — news of war— dismay of M'Dougal— determination to abandon 
Astoria— departure of M'Kenzie for the interior — adventure at the rapids- 
visit to the ruffians of Wish-ram — a perilous situation— meeting with M'Tavish 
and his party — arrival at the Shahaptan — plundered caches — determination 
of the wintering partners not to leave the country — arrival of Clarke among 
the Nez Perces — the affair of the silver goblet — hanging of an Indian— arrival 
of the wintering partners at Astoria 333 

CHAPTER LIV. 

The partners displeased with M'Dougal— equivocal conduct of that gentleman — 
partners agree to abandon Astoria— sale of goods to M'Tavish— arrangements 
for the year — manifesto signed by the partners— departure of M'Tavish for 
the interior 343 

CHAPTER LV. 

Anxieties of Mr. Astor— memorial of the North-west Cornpany^ — tidings of a 
British naval expedition against Astoria — Mr. Astor applies to government 
for protection— the frigate Adams ordered to be fitted out— bright news from 
Astoria— sunshine suddenly overclouded 345 



10 CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER LVI. 

PAGH 
Affairs of state at Astoria— M'Dougal proposes for the hand of an Indian Prin- 
cess—matrimonial embassy to Comcomly— matrimonial notions among the 
Chinooks— settlements and pin-money— the bringing home of the bride— a 
managing father in-law— arrival of Mr. Hunt at Astoria 347 



CHAPTER LVn. 

Voyage of the Beaver to New Archangel— a Russian governor— roystwi_^' e vuiti 
—the tyranny of the table— hard drinking bargains— voyage to Kamschatka— - 
seal-catching establishment at St. Paul's— storms at sea— Mr. Hunt left at the 
Sandwich Islands— transactions of the Beaver at Canton— return of Mr. Himt 
to Astoria 349 



CHAPTER INTO.. 

Arrangements among the partners— Mr. Hunt sails in the Albatross—* ■ • ,/r» «« 
the Marquesas— news of the frigate Phoebe— Mr. Hunt proceeds to tHe Sana- 
wich Islands— voyage of the Lark— her shipwreck— transactions with the 
natives of the Sandwich Islands— conduct of Tamaahmaah 356 



CHAPTER LIX. 

Arrival of M'Tavish at Astoria— conduct of his followers— negotiations oi iaOou- 
gal and M'Tavish— bargain for the transfer of Astoria— doubts entertained of 
the loyalty of M'Dougal 361 



CHAPTER LX. 

Arrival of a strange sail— agitation at Astoria— warlike offer of Comcomly— 
Astoria taken possession of by the British— indignation of Comcomly at the 
conduct of his son-in-law . 365 



CHAPTER LXI. 

Arrival of the brig Pedler at Astoria— breaking up of the establishment— de- 
parture of several of the company— tragical story told by the squaw of Pierre 
Porion— fate of Reed and his companions— attempts of Mr. Astor to renew 
his enterprise— disappointment— concluding observations and reflections 36& 



APPENDIX. 



Draught of a petition to Congress, sent by Mr. Astor in 1812 377 

Letter from Mr. Gallatin to Mr. Astor 378 

Notices of the present state of the Fur Trade, chiefly extracted from an article 

published in Silliman's Journal for January, 1834 380 

Height of the Rocky Mountains 383 

Suggestions with respect to the Indian tribes, and the protection of our trade. . 384 



ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER I. 

Two leading 'objects of commercial gain have given birth to 
wide and daring enterprise in the early history of the Ameri- 
cas : the precious metals of the south, and the rich peltries of 
the north. While the fiery and magnificent Spaniard, in- 
flamed with the mania for gold, has extended his discoveries 
and conquests over those brilliant countries scorched by the 
ardent sun of the tropics, the adroit and buoyant Frenchman, 
and the cool and calculating Briton, have pursued the less 
splendid, but no less lucrative, traffic in furs amid the h^nej-- 
borean regions of the Canadas, until they have advanced even 
within the Arctic circle. 

These two pursuits have thus in a manner been the pioneers 
and precursors of civilization. Without pausing on the bor- 
ders, they have penetrated at once, in defiance of difficulties 
and dangers, to the heart of savage countries : laying open the 
hidden secrets of the wilderness; leading the way to remote 
regions of beauty and fertility that might have remained un- 
explored for ages, and beckoning after them the slow and 
pausing steps of agriculture and civilization. 

It was the fur trade, in fact, which gave early sustenance and 
vitality to the great Canadian provinces. Being destitute of 
the precious metals, at that time the leading objects of Ameri- 
can enterprise, they were long neglected by the parent country. 
The French adventurers, however, who had settled on the 
banks of the St. Lawrence, soon found that in the rich peltries 
of the interior, they had sources of wealth that might almost 
rival the mines of Mexico and Peru. The Indians, as yet un- 
acquainted with the artificial value given to some descriptions 
of furs, in civilized life, brought quantities of the most precious 
kinds and bartered them away for European trinkets and 



IQ ASTORIA. 

cheap commodities. Immense profits were thus made by the 
early traders, and the traffic was pursued witli avidity. 

As the valuable furs soon became scarce in the neighborhood 
of the settlements, the Indians of the vicinity were stimulated 
to take a wider range in their hunting expeditions ; they were 
generally accompanied on these expeditions by some of the 
traders or their dependents, who shared in the toils and perils 
of the chase, and at the same time made themselves acquainted 
with the best hunting and trapping grounds, and with the 
remote tribes, whom they encouraged to bring their peltries to 
the settlements. In this way the trade augmented, and was 
drawn from remote quarters to Montreal. Every now and 
then a large body of Ottawas, Hurons, and other tribes who 
hunted the countries bordering on the great lakes, would come 
down in a squadron of light canoes, laden with beaver skins, 
and other spoils of their year's hunting. The canoes would be 
unladen, taken on shore, and their contents disposed in order. 
A camp of birch bark would be i)itched outside of the town, 
and a kind of primitive fair opened with that grave ceremonial 
so dear to the Indians. An audience would be demanded of 
the governor-general, who would hold the conference with be- 
coming state, seated in an elbow chair, with the Indians ranged 
in semicircles before him, seated on the ground, and silently 
smoking their pipes. Speeches would be made, presents ex- 
changed, and the audience would break up in universal good 
humor. 

Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and aU 
Montreal would be alive with naked Indians running from 
shop to shop, bargaining for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blank- 
ets, bright-colored cloths, and other articles of use or fancy; 
upon all which, says an old French writer, the merchants 
were sure to clear at least two hundred per cent. There was 
no money used in this traffic, and, after a time, all payment 
in spirituous liquors was prohibited, in consequence of the 
frantic and frightful excesses and bloody brawls wliich they 
were apt to occasion. 

Their v/ants and caprices being supplied, they would take 
leave of the governor, strike their tents, launch their canoes, 
and ply their way up the Ottawa to the lakes. 

A new and anomalous class of men gradually grew out of 
this trade. These were called coiireurs des hois, rangers of the 
woods; originally men who had accompanied the Indians in 
their hunting expeditions, and made themselves acquainted 



ASTORIA. 19 

with remote tracks and tribes; and who now became, as it 
were, pedlers of the wilderness. These men would set out 
from Montreal with canoes well stocked with goods, with arms 
and ammunition, and would make their way up the mazy 
and wandering rivers that interlace the vast forests of the 
Canadas, coasting the most remote lakes, and creating new 
wants and habitudes among the natives. Sometimes they 
sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their tastes 
and habits with the happy facility of Frenchmen ; adopting in 
some degree the Indian dress, and not unfrequently taking to 
themselves Indian wives. 

Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without 
any tidings of them, when they would come sweeping their 
way down the Ottawa in full glee, their canoes laden down 
with packs of beaver skins. Now came their turn for revelry 
and extravagance. "You would be amazed," says an old 
writer already quoted, "if you saw how lewd these pedlers are 
when they return ; how they feast and game, and how prodigal 
they are, not only in their clothes, but upon their sweethearts. 
Such of them as are married have the wisdom to retire to their 
own houses; but the bachelors act just as an East Indiaman 
and pirates are wont to do ; for they lavish, eat, drink, and 
play aU away as long as the goods hold out ; and when these 
are gone, they even seU their embroidery, their lace, and their 
clotlies. This done, they are forced upon a new voyage for 
subsistence."* 

Many of these courevrs des hois became so accustomed to 
the Indian mode of living, and the perfect freedom of the wil- 
derness, that they lost all relish for civilization, and identified 
themselves with the savages among whom they dwelt, or could 
only be distinguished from them by superior licentiousness. 
Their conduct and example gradually corrupted the natives, 
and impeded the works of the Catholic missionaries, who were 
at this time prosecuting their pious labors in the wilds of 
Canada. 

To check these abuses, and to protect the fur trade from 
various irregularities practised by these loose adventurers, an 
order was issued by the French Government prohibiting all 
persons, on pain of death, from trading into the interior of the 
country without a license. 

These licenses were granted in writing by the govemor- 

* La Hontan, v. i. let. 4. 



20 ASTORIA. 

general, and at first were given only to persons of respecter 
bility ; to gentlemen of broken fortunes ; to old officers of the 
army who had families to provide for; or to their widows. 
Each license permitted the fitting out of two large canoes with 
merchandise for the lakes, and no more than twenty-five 
licenses were to be issued in one year. By degrees, however, 
private licenses were also granted, and the number rapidly in- 
creased. Those who did not choose to fit out the expeditions 
themselves were permitted to sell them to the merchants: 
these employed the coureurs des bois, or rangers of the woods, 
to undertake the long voyages on shares, and thus the abuses 
of the old system were revived and continued.* 

The pious missionaries, employed by the Roman Catholic 
Church to convert the Indians, did every thing in their power 
to counteract the profligacy caused and propagated by these 
men in the heart of the wilderness. The Catholic chapel might 
often be seen planted beside the trading house, and its spire 
surmounted by a cross, toAvering from the midst of an Indian 
village, on the banks of a river or a lake. The missions had 
often a beneficial effect on the simple sons of the forest, but 
had little power over the renegades from civilization. 

At length it was found necessary to establish fortified posts 
at the confluence of the rivers and the lakes for the protection 
of the trade, and the restraint of these profligates of the wil- 
derness. The most important of these was at Michilimackinac, 
situated at the strait of the same name, which connects Lakes 
Huron and Michigan. It became the great interior mart and 
place of deposit, and some of the regular merchants who pros- 
ecuted the trade in person, under their licenses, formed estab- 
lishments here. This, too, was a rendezvous for the rangers 



■''' The following are the terms on which these expeditions were commonly under- 
taken. The merchant holding the license would fit out the two canoes with a 
thousand crowns' worth of goods, and put them imder the conduct of six conienrs 
des bois, to whom the goods were charged at the rate of fifteen per cent, above the 
ready-money price in the colony. The coureurs des bois, in their turn, dealt so 
sharply with the savages, that they generally returiied. at the end of a year oi- so, 
with four canoes well laden, so as to iusiu-e a clear profit of seven hundred per 
cent., insomuch that the thousand crowns invested produced eight thousand. Of 
this extravagant profit, the merchant had the lion's share. Inthefi'st place he 
would spt aside six hundred crowns for the cost of his license, then a thousand 
crowns for the cost of the original merchandise. This would leave six thousand 
four hundred crowns, from which he would take forty per cwnt. for bottomry, 
amounting to two thousand five hundred and sixty crowns. The residue would be 
equally divided among the six grood i-mgcrs. who would thus receive little more 
than six hundred crowns for all tlieir toils ;vnd perils. 



ASTORIA. 21 

of the woods, as well those who came up with goods from 
Montreal as those who returned with peltries from the interior. 
Here new expeditions were fitted out, and took their departure 
for Lake Michigan and the Mississippi ; Lake Superior and the 
northwest; and here the peltries brought in return were em- 
barked for Montreal. 

The French merchant at his trading post, in these primitive 
days of Canada, was a kind of commercial patriarch. With 
t}ie lax habits and easy familiarity of his race, he had a little 
world of self-indulgence and misrule around him. He had his 
clerks, canoe-men, and retainers of ah kinds, who lived with 
him on terms of perfect sociabihty, always calling him by his 
Christian name ; he had his harem of Indian beauties, and his 
troop of half-breed children; nor was there ever wanting a 
louting train of Indians, hanging about the estabhshment, 
eating and drinking at his expense in the intervals of their 
hunting expeditions. 

The Canadian traders, for a long time, had troublesome 
competitor in the British merchants of New York, who in- 
veigled the Indian hunters and the coiireiirs des hois to their 
posts, and traded with them on more favorable terms. A still 
more formidable opposition was organized in the Hudson Bay 
Company, chartered by Charles II., in 1670, with the exclusive 
privilege of establishing trading houses on the shores of that 
bay and its tributary rivers; a privilege which they have 
maintained to the present day. Between this British company 
and the French merchants of Canada, feuds and contests arose 
about alleged infringements of territorial hmits, and acts of 
violence and bloodshed occurred between their agents. 

In 1762 the French lost possession of Canada, and the trade 
fell principally into the hands of British subjects. For a time, 
however, it shrunk within narrow limits. The old coureurs 
des hois were broken up and dispersed, or, where they could 
be met with, were slow to accustom themselves to the habits 
and manners of their British employers. They missed the 
freedom, indulgence, and famiharity of the old French trading 
houses, and did not rehsh the sober exactness, reserve, and 
method of the new-comers. The British traders, too, were 
ignorant of the country, and distrustful of the natives. They 
had reason to be so. The treacherous and bloody affairs of 
Detroit and Michihmackinac showed them the lurkmg hos- 
tility cherished by the savages, who had too long been taught 
by the French to regard them as enemies. 



22 ASTORIA. 

It was not until the year 1766 that the trade regained its old 
channels; but it was then pursued with much avidity and 
emulation by individual merchants, and soon transcended its 
former bounds. Expeditions were fitted out by various per- 
sons from Montreal and Michilimackinac, and rivalships and 
jealousies of course ensued. The trade was injured by their 
artifices to outbid and undermine each other; the Indians wcie 
debauched by the sale of spirituous liquors, which had been 
prohibited under the French rule. Scenes of drunkenness, 
brutality, and brawl were the consequence, in the Indian vil- 
lages and around the trading houses ; while bloody feuds took 
place between rival trading parties when they happened to en- 
counter each other in the lawless depths of the wilderness. 

To put an end to these sordid and ruinous contentions, 
several of the principal merchants of Montreal entered into a 
partnership in the winter of 1783, which was augmented by 
amalgamation with a rival company in 1787. Thus was 
created the famous "Northwest Company," which for a time 
held a lordly sway over the wintry lakes and boundless forests 
of the Canadas, almost equal to that of the East India Com- 
pany over the voluptuous climes and magnificent leaims of the 
Orient. 

The company consisted of twenty-three shareholders or 
partners, but held in its employ about two thousand persons 
as clerks, guides, interpreters, and " voyageurs," or boatmen. 
These were distributed at various trading jDOsts, established 
far and wide on the interior lakes and rivers, at innnense 
distances from each other, and in the heart of trackless coun- 
tries and savage tribes. 

Several of the partners resided in Montreal and Quebec, to 
manage the main concerns of the company. These were called 
agents, and were personages of great weight and importance ; 
the other partners took their stations at the interior posts, 
where they remained throughout the winter, to superintend 
the intercourse with the various tribes of Indians. They were 
thence called wintering partners. 

The goods destined for this wide and wandering traffic were 
put up at the warehouses of the company in Montreal, and con- 
veyed in batteaux, or boats and canoes, up the Eiver Attawa, 
or Ottawa, which falls into the St. Lawrence near Montreal, 
and by other rivers and portages to Lake Nipissing, Lake 
Huron, Lake Superior, and thence, by several chains of great 
and small lakes, to Lake Winnipeg, Lake Athabasca, and the 



ASTORIA. 23 

Great Slave Lake. This singular and beautifnl system of 
internal seas, which renders an immense region of wilderness 
so accessible to the fraU bark of the Indian or the trader was 
studded by the remote posts of the company, where they 
carried on their traffic with the surrounding tribes. 

The company as we have shown, was at first a spontaneous 
association of 'merchants; but after it had ]>^J, ^^S'^}^^^y 
organized, admission into it became extremely difficult. A 
candidate had to enter, as it were, " before the mast, to un- 
dergo a long probation, and to rise slowly by his merits and 
services. He began at an early age as a clerk, and served an 
apprenticeship of seven years, for which he received one hun- 
dred pounds sterhng, was maintained at the expense of the 
company and furnished with suitable clothing and equip- 
ments. His probation was generaUy passed at the interior 
trading posts; removed for years from civilized society, lead- 
ing a life ahnost as wild and precarious as the savages around 
him; exposed to the severities of a northern winter often 
suffering from a scarcity of food, and sometimes destitute for 
a long time of both bread and salt. AVhen his apprenticeship 
had expired, he received a salary according to his deserts, 
varying from eighty to one hundred and sixty pounds sterling, 
and was now ehgible to the great object of his ambition, a 
partnership in the company; though years might yet elapse 
before he attained to that enviable station. 

Most of the clerks were young men of good families, from 
the Highlands of Scotland, characterized by the perseverance, 
thrift, and fidelity of their country, and fitted by their native 
hardihood to encounter the rigorous climate of the north, and 
to endure the trials and privations of their lot; though it must 
not be concealed that the constitutions of many of them be- 
came impaired by the hardships of the wilderness, and their 
stomachs injured by occasional famishing, and especially by 
the want of bread and salt. Now and then, at an interval oi 
years they were permitted to come down on a visit to the 
establishment at Montreal, to recruit their health, and to havo 
a taste of civilized life; and these were brilliant spots m their 

existence 

As to the principal partners or agents, who resided in Mon^ 
treal and Quebec, they formed a kind of commercial aristo- 
cracy living in lordly and hospitable style. Their early asso- 
ciations when clerks at the remote trading posts, and the 
pleasures, dangers, adventures, and mishaps which they had 



24 ASTORIA. 

shared together in their wild wood life, had linked them 
heartily to each other, so that they formed a convivial fra- 
ternity. Few travellers that have visited Canada some thirty 
years since, in the days of the M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, 
the M'Kenzies, the Frobishers, and the other magnates of the 
northwest, when the company was in all its glory, but must 
remember the round of feasting and revelry kept up among 
these hyperborean nabobs. 

Sometimes one or two partners, recently from the interior 
posts, would make their appearance in New York, in the course^ 
of a tour of pleasure and curiosity. On these occasions there 
was always a degree of magnificence of the purse about them, 
and a peculiar propensity to expenditure at the goldsmith's 
and jeweller's, for rings, chains, brooches, necklaces, jewelled 
watches, and other rich trinkets, partly for their own wear, 
partly for presents to their female acquaintances ; a gorgeous 
prodigality, such as was often to be noticed in former times in 
southern planters and West India Creoles, when flush wath the 
profits of their plantations. 

To behold the Northwest Company in all its state and 
grandeur, however, it was necessary to witness an annual 
gathering at the great interior place of conference established 
at Fort William, near what is called the Grand Poj'tage, on 
Lake Superior. Here two or tliree of the leading partners 
from Montreal proceeded once a year to meet the partners 
from the various trading posts of the wilderness, to discuss the 
affairs of the company during the preceding year, and to 
arrange plans for the future. 

On these occasions might be seen the change since the uii- 
ceremonious times of the old French traders; now the ariS' 
tocratical character of the Bx-iton shone forth magnificently, 
or rather the feudal spirit of the Highlander. Every partner 
who had charge of an interior post, and a score of retainers at 
his command, felt like the chieftain of a Highland clan, and 
was almost as important in the eyes of his dependents as of 
himself. To him a visit to the grand conference at Fort 
William was a most important event; and he repaired there as 
to a meeting of parliament. 

The partners from Montreal, however, were the lords of the 
ascendant ; coming from the midst of luxurious and ostenta- 
tious life, they quite eclipsed their compeers from the woods, 
whose forms and faces had been battered and hardened by 
hard living and hard service, and whose garments and equip' 



ASTORIA. 25 

merits were all the worse for wear. Indeed, the partners f rona 
below considered the whole dignity of the company as repre- 
sented in their persons, and conducted themselves in suitable 
style. They ascended the rivers in great state, like sovereigns 
making a progress : or rather hke Highland chieftains navigat- 
ing then' subject lakes. They were wrapped in rich furs, 
their huge canoes freighted with every convenience and 
luxury, and manned by Canadian voyageurs, as obedient as 
Highland clansmen. They carried up with them cooks and 
bakers, together with delicacies of every kind, and abundance 
of choice wines for the banquets which attended this great con- 
vocation. Happy were they, too, if they could meet with 
some distinguished stranger ; above all, some titled member of 
the British nobihty, to accompany them on this stately occa- 
sion, and grace their high solemnities. 

Fort William, the scene of this important annual meeting, 
was a considerable village on the banks of Lake Superior. 
Here, in an unmense wooden building, was the great council 
hall, as also the banqueting chamber, decorated with Indian 
arms and accoutrements, and the trophies of the fur trade. 
The house swarmed at this time with traders and voyageurs, 
some from Montreal, bound to the interior posts; some from 
the interior posts, bound to Montreal. The councils were held 
in great state, for every member felt as if sitting in parliament, 
and every retainer and dependent looked up to the assemblage 
with awe, as to the house of lords. There was a vast deal of 
solemn deliberation, and hard Scottish reasoning, with an occa- 
sional swell of pompous declamation. 

These grave and weighty councils were alternated by huge 
feasts and revels, like some of the old feasts described in High- 
land castles. The tables in the great banq acting room 
groaned under the weight of game of aU kinds; of venison 
from the woods, and fish from the lakes, with hunters' deli- 
cacies, such as buffaloes' tongues and beavers' tails ; and vari- 
ous luxuries from Montreal, all served up by experienced 
cooks brought for the purpose. There was no stint of gener- 
ous wine, for it was a hard-drinking period, a time of loyal 
toasts, and bacchanalian songs, and brimming bumpers. 

While the chiefs thus revelled in hall, and made the rafters 
resound with bursts of loyalty and old Scottish songs, chanted, 
in voices cracked and sharpened by the northern blast, their 
merriment was echoed and prolonged by a mongrel legion of 
retainers, Canadian voyageurs, half-breeds, Indian hunters, 



26 ASTORIA. 

and vagabond hangers-on, who feasted sumptuously without 
on the crumbs that fell from their table, and made the welkin 
ring with old French ditties, mingled with Indian yelps and 
yellings. 

Such was the Northwest Company in its powerful and pros- 
perous days, when it held a kind of feudal sway over a vast 
domain of lake and forest. We are dwelling too long, perhaps, 
upon these individual pictures, endeai-ed to us by the associa- 
tions of early life, when, as yet a stripling youth, we have sat 
at the hospitable boards of the " mighty Northwesters," the 
lords of the ascendant at Montreal, and gazed with wondering 
and inexperienced eye at the baronial wassailing, and listened 
with astonished ear to their "^ales of hardships and adventures. 
It is one object of our task, however, to i)resent scenes of the 
rough hfe of the wilderness, and we are tempted to fix these 
few memorials of a transient state of things fast passing into 
oblivion ; for the feudal state of Fort William is at an end ; its 
council-chamber is silent and deserted; its banquet-hall no 
longer echoes to the burst of loyalty, or the "auld world" 
ditty ; the lords of the lakes and forests have passed away ; and 
the hospitable magnates of Montreal— where are they? 



CHAPTER II. 



The success of the Northwest Company stimulated further 
enterprise in this opening and apparently boundless field of 
profit. The traffic of that company lay principally in the high 
northern latitudes, while there were immense regions to the 
south and west, known to abound with valuable peltries ; but 
which, as yet, had been but little explored by the fur trader. 
A new association of British merchants was therefore formed, 
to prosecute the trade in this direction. The chief factory was 
established at the old emporium of Michilimackinac, from 
which place the association took its name, and was commonly 
called the Mackinaw Company. 

While the Northwesters continued to push their enterprises 
into the hyperborean regions from their stronghold at Fort 
William, and to hold almost sovereign sway over the tribes of 
the upper lakes and rivers, the Mackinaw Company sent forth 
their light perogues and barks, by Green Bay, Fox River, and 



ASTORIA. ^7 

the Wisconsin, to that great artery of the west, the Mississippi ; 
and down that stream to all its tributary rivers. In this way 
they hoped soon to monopolize the trade with all the tribes on 
the southern and western waters, and of those vast tracts com- 
prised in ancient Louisiana. 

The government of the United States began to view with a 
wary eye the growing influence thus acquired by combinations 
of foreigners over the aboriginal tribes inhabiting its terri- 
tories, and endeavored to counteract it. For this purpose, as 
early as 1796 the government sent out agents to establish rival 
trading houses, on the frontier, so as to supply the wants of 
the Indians, to hnk their interests and feelings with those of 
the people of the United States, and to divert this important 
branch of trade into national channels. 

The expedient, however, was unsuccessful, as most commer- 
cial expedients are prone to be, where the duU patronage of 
government is counted upon to outvie the keen activity of pri- 
vate enterprise. What government failed to effect, however, 
with all its patronage and all its agents, was at length brought 
about by the enterprise and perseverance of a single merchant, 
one of its adopted citizens ; and this brings us to speak of the 
individual whose enterprise is the especial subject of the fol- 
lowing pages ; a man whose name and character are woi-thy of 
being enrolled in the history of commerce, as illustrating its 
noblest aims and soundest maxims. A few brief anecdotes of 
his early life, and of the circumstances which first determined 
him to the branch of commerce of which we are treating, can- 
not be but interesting. 

John Jacob Astor, the individual in question, was born in 
the honest little German village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, 
on the banks of the Rhine. He was brought up in the simpli- 
city of rural Ufe, but, while yet a mere stripling, left his home 
and launched hunself amid the busy scenes of London, having 
had, from his very boyhood, a singular presentiment that he 
would ultimately arrive at great fortune. 

At the close of the American Revolution he was still in Lon- 
don, and scarce on the threshold of active life. An elder 
brother had been for some years resident in the United States, 
and Mr. Astor determined to follow him, and to seek his for- 
tunes in the rising country. Investing a small sum which he 
had amassed since leaving his native village, in merchandise 
suited to the American market, he embarked, in the month of 
November, 1783, in a ship bound to Baltimore, and arrived ia 



28 ASTORIA. 

Hampton Eoads in the month of January. The whiter was 
extremely severe, and the ship, Avith many others, was de- 
tained by the ice in and about Chesapeake Bay for nearly three 
months. 

During this period the passengers of the various ships used 
occasionally to go on shore, and mingle sociably together. In 
this way Mr. Astor became acquainted with a countryman of 
his, a furrier by trade. Having had a previous impression that 
this might be a lucrative trade in the New World, he made 
many inquiries of his new acquaintance on the subject, who 
cheerfully gave him all the information in his power as to the 
quality and value of different furs, and the mode of carrying 
on the traffic. He subsequently accompanied hnn to New 
York, and, by his advice, Mr. Astor was induced to invest the 
proceeds of his merchandise in furs. With these he sailed 
from New York to London in 1784, disposed of them advant- 
ageously, made himself further acquainted with the course of 
the trade, and returned the same year to New York, with a 
view to settle in the United States. 

He now devoted himself to the branch of commerce with 
which he had thus casually been ma^e acquainted. He began 
liis career, of course, on the narrowest scale ; but he brought 
to the task a persevering industry, rigid economy, and strict 
integrity. To these were added an aspiring spirit that always 
looked upward ; a genius bold, fertile, and expansive ; a sagacity 
quick to grasp and convert every circumstance to its advan- 
tage, and a singular and never- wavering confidence of signal 
success.* 

As yet trade in peltries was not organized in the United 
States, and could not be said to form a regular line of business. 
Furs and skins were casually collected by the country traders 
in their dealings with the Indians or the white hunters, but the 
main supply was derived from Canada. As Mr. Aster's means 
increased he made annual visits to Montreal, where he pur- 
chased furs from the houses at that place engaged in the trade. 



* An instance of this buoyant confidence, which no doubt aided to produce the 
success it anticipated, we have from the lips of Mr. A. himself. While yet almost 
a stranger in the city, and in very narrow circumstances, he passed by where a row 
of houses had just been erected in Broadway, and which, from the superior stjie 
of their architecture, were the talk and boast of the city. "I'll build one day or 
other, a greater house than any of these, in this very street," said he to himself. 
He has accomplished his prediction. 



ASTORIA. 29 

These he shipped from Canada to London, no direct trade be- 
ing allowed from that colony to any but the mother country. 

In 1794 or '95, a treaty with Great Britain removed the re- 
strictions imposed upon the trade with the colonies, and opened 
a direct commercial intercourse between Canada and the 
United States. Mr. Astor was in London at the time, and im- 
mediately made a contract with the agents of the Northwest 
Company for furs. He was now enabled to import them from 
Montreal into the United States for the home supply, and to be 
shipped thence to different parts of Europe, as well as to China, 
which has ever been the best market for the richest and finest 
kinds of peltry. 

The treaty in question provided, likewise, that the military 
posts occupied by the British within the territorial limits of the 
United States should be surrendered. Accordingly, Oswego, 
Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other posts on the 
American side of tlie lakes were given up. An opening was 
thus made for the American merchant to trade on the confines 
of Canada, and within the territories of the United States. 
After an interval of some years, about 1807, Mr. Astor em- 
barked in this trade on his own account. His capital and re- 
sources had by this time greatly augmented, and he had risen 
from small beginnings to take his place among the first mer- 
chants and financiers of the country. His genius had ever 
been in advance of his circumstances, prompting him to new 
and wide fields of enterprise beyond the scope of ordinary mer- 
chants. With all his enterprise and resources, however, he 
soon found the power and mfiuence of the Michilimackinac (or 
Mackinaw) Company too great for him, having engrossed most 
of the trade within the American borders. 

A plan had to be devised to enable him to enter into success- 
ful competition. He was aware of the wish of the American 
govermnent, already stated, that the fur trade within its bound- 
aries should be in the hands of American citizens, and of the 
ineffectual measures it had taken to accomplish that object. 
He now offered, if aided and protected by government, to turn 
the whole of that trade into American channels. He was in- 
vited to unfold his plans to government, and they were warmly 
approved, though the executive could give no direct aid. 

Thus countenanced, however, he obtained, in 1809, a charter 
from the Legislature of the State of New York, incorporating 
a company under the name of ' ' The American Fur Company, " 
with a capital of one miUion of dollars, with the privilege of in^ 



30 



ASTORIA. 



oreasing it to two millions. The capital was furnished by him- 
self -he, in fact, constituted the company; for, though he had 
a board of directors, they were merely nominal; the whole 
business was conducted on his plans, and with his resources, 
but he preferred to do so under the imposing and formidablo 
aspect of a corporation, rather than in his individual name, 
and his pohcy was sagacious and effective. 

As the Mackinaw Company still continued its rivalry, and 
as the fur trade would not advantageously admit of competi- 
tion, he made a new arrangement in 1811, by wliich, in con- 
junction with certain partners of the Northwest Company, and 
other persons engaged in the fur trade, he bought out the 
Mackinaw Company, and merged that and the American Fur 
Company into a new association, to be called "The Southwest 
Company." This he likewise did with the privity and appro- 
bation of the American government. 

By this arrangement Mr. Astor became proprietor of one 
half or the Indian establishments and goods which the Mack- 
inaw Company had within the territory of the Indian country 
in the United States, and it was understood that the whole was 
to be surrend<jred into his hands at the expiration of five years, 
on condition tho.t the American Company would not trade 
within the British dominions. 

Unluckily, the war which broke out in 1812 between Great 
Britain and the United States suspended the association ; and 
after the war it was entirely dissolved; Congress having passed 
a law prohibiting British fur traders from prosecuting; their 
enterprises within the terrif o^i^g of the United States. 



CHAPTER III. 

While the various companies W3 hd^ie noticed were pushing 
ihoir enterprises far and wide in the wilds of Canada, and 
along the course of the great western waters,- other adventu- 
rers, intent on the same objects, were traversing the watery 
wastes of the Pacific and skirting the northwest coast of 
America. The last voyage of that renowned but unfortunate 
discoverer, Captain Cook, had made known the vast quanti- 
ties of the sea-otter to be found along that coast, and the im- 
mense prices to be obtained for its fur in China. It was as if 



ASTORIA. 31 

a new gold coast had been discovered. Individuals from 
various countries dashed into this lucrative traffic, so that in 
the year 1792 there were twenty-one vessels under different 
flags, plying along the coast and trading with the natives. 
The greater part of them were American, and owned by Bos- 
ton merchants. They generally remained on the coast and 
about the adjacent seas for two years, carrying on as wander- 
ing and adventurous a commerce on the water as did the 
traders and trappers on land. Their trade extended along the 
whole coast from California to the high northern latitudes. 
They would run in near shore, anchor, and wait for the natives 
to come off in their canoes Avith peltries. The trade exhausted 
at one place, they would up anchor and off to another. In this 
way they would consume the summer, and when autumn came 
on, would run down to the Sandwich Islands and winter in 
some friendly and plentiful harbor. In the following year 
they would resume their summer trade, connnencing at Cali- 
fornia and proceeding north ; and, ha\"ing in the course of the 
two seasons collected a sufficient cargo of peltries, would make 
the best of their way to China. Here they would sell their 
furs, take in teas, nankeens, and other merchandise, and re- 
turn to Boston, after an absence of two or three years. 

The people, however, who entered most extensively and ef- 
fectively in the fur trade of the Pacific, were the Russians. 
Instead of making casual voyages, in transient ships, they 
established regular trading houses in the high latitudes, along 
the northwest coast of America, and upon the chain of the 
Aleutian Islands between Kamtschatka and the promontory of 
Alaska. 

To promote and protect these enterprises a company was in- 
corporated by the Russian government with exclusive privi- 
leges, and a capital of two hundred and sixty thousand pounds 
sterling; and the sovereignty of that part of the American 
continent along the coast of which the posts had Deen estab- 
hshed, was claimed by the Russian crown, on the piea that the 
land had been discovered and occupied by its sulDjects. 

As China was the grand mart for the furs collected in these 
quarters, the Russians had the advantage over their competi- 
tors in the trade. The latter had to take their pelti-ies to 
Canton, which, however, was a mere receiving mart, from 
whence they had to be distributed over the interior of the 
empire and sent to the northern parts, where there was the 
chief consumption. The Russians, on the contrary, carried 



32 ASTORIA. 

their furs, by a shorter voyage, directly to the northern parts 
of the Chinese empire ; thus being able to afford them in the 
market without the additional cost of internal transportation. 

We come now to the immediate field of operation of the 
great enterprise we have undertaken to illustrate. 

Among the American ships which traded along the north- 
west coast in 1792, was the Columbia, Captain G-ray, of Boston, 
In the course of her voyage she discovered the mouth of a 
large river in lat. 46° 19' aorth. Entering it with some diffi- 
culty, on account of sand-bars and breakers, she came to 
anchor in a spacious bay. A boat was well manned, and sent 
on shore to a village on the beach, but all the inhabitants fled 
excepting the aged and infirm. The kind manner in which 
these were treated, and the presents given to them, gradually 
lured back the others, and a friendly intercourse took place. 
They had never seen a ship or a white man. When they had 
first descried the Columbia, they had supposed it a floating 
island ; then some monster of the deep ; but when they saw the 
boat putting for shore with human beings on board, they con- 
sidered them cannibals sent by the Great Spirit to ravage the 
country and devour the inhabitants. Captain Gray did not 
ascend the river farther than the bay in question, which con - 
tinues to bear his name. After putting to sea he fell in with 
the celebrated discoverer, Vancouver, and informed him of his 
discovery, furnishing him with a chart which he had made of 
the river. Vancouver visited the river, and his lieutenant, 
Broughton, explored it by the aid of Captain Gray's chart ; as- 
cending it upward of one himdred miles, until withm view of 
a snowy mountain, to which he gave the name of Mount Hood, 
which it still retains. 

The existence of this river, however, was known long before 
the visits of Gray and Vancouver, but the information con- 
cerning it was vague and indefinite, being gathered from the 
reports of the Icdians. It was spoken of by travellers as the 
Oregon, and as the great river of the west. A Spanish ship is 
said to have been wrecked at the mouth, several of the crew 
of which lived for some time among the natives. The Co- 
lumbia, however, is believed to be the first ship that made a 
regular discovery and anchored within its Avaters, and it has 
since generaUy borne the name of that vessel. 

As early as 1763, shortly after the acquisition of the Canadas 
by Great Britain, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had been in 
the British provincial army, projected a journey across the 



ASTORIA. 33 

CGTitinent between the forty-lliird and forty-sixth degrees of 
northern latitude, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. His ob- 
jects were to ascertain the breadth of the continent at its 
broadest part, and to determine on some place on the shores of 
the Pacific where government might establish a post to facili- 
tate the discovery of a northwest passage, or a connniinication 
between Hudson's Bay and the Pacific Ocean, This place ho 
presumed would be somewhere about the Straits of Annian, at 
which point he supposed the Oregon disembogued itseh". It 
was his opinion also that a settlement on this extremity of 
America would disclose new sources of trade, promote many 
useful discoveries, and open a more direct communication with 
China and the English settlements in the East Indies, than that 
by the Cape of Good Hope or the Straits of MageUan.-'' This 
enterprising and intrepid traveller was twice baffled in indi- 
vidual efforts to accomplish his great journey. In 1774 he was 
joined in the scheme by Richard Whitworth, a member of 
Parliament, and a man of Avealth. Their enterprise was pro- 
jected on a broad and bold plan. They were to take with them 
fifty or sixty men, artificers and mariners. With these they 
were to make their way up one of the branches of the Missouri, 
explore the mountains for the source of the Oregon, or river of 
the west, and sail down that river to its supposed exit near 
the Straits of Annian. Here they were to erect a fort, and 
build the vessels necessary to carry their discoveries by sea 
into eftect. Their plan had the sanction of the British govern- 
ment, and grants and other requisites were nearly completed 
when the breaking out of the American Revolution once more 
defeaxed the undertaking, f 

The expedition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, across 
the continent to the Pacific Ocean, which he reached in lat. 52° 
20' 48' , again suggested the possibility of linking together the 
trade of both sides of the continent. In lat. 52° 30' he had de- 
scended a river for some distance which flowed to^vard the 
south, and was called by the natives Tacoutche Tesse, and 
which he erroneously supposed to be the Columbia. It 
was afterward ascertained that it emptied itself in lat. 49°, 
whereas the mouth of the Columbia is about three degrees far- 
ther south. 

When Mackenzie some years subsequently pubhshed an ac- 

* Carver's Travels. lutrod. b. iii. Philad. 1796. 
t Ibid. p. 3G0. Philad. 1796. 



34 ASTORIA. 

count of his expeditions, he suggested the pohcy of opening 
an intercourse between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and 
forming regular establishments through the interior and at 
both extremes, as well as along the coasts and islands. By 
this means, he observed, the entire command of the fur trade 
of North Am.erica might be obtained from lat. 48° north to the 
pole, excepting that portion held by the Russians, for as to the 
American adventurers who had hitherto enjoyed the traffic 
along the northwest coast, they would instantly disappear, he 
added, before a v/ell regulated trade. 

A scheme of this kind, however, was too vast and hazardous 
for individual enterprise ; it could only be undertaken by a 
company under the sanction and protection of a government ; 
and as there might be a clashing of claims between the Hud- 
son's Bay and Northwest Company, the one holding by right 
of charter, the other by right of possession, he proposed that 
the two companies should coalesce in this great undertaking. 
The long-cherished jealousies of these two companies, hovv-ever, 
were too deep and strong to allow them to listen to such 
counsel. 

In the mean time the attention of the American government 
was attracted to the subject, and the memorable expedition 
under Messrs. Lewis and Clarke fitted out. These gentlemen, 
in 1804, accomplished the enterprise which had been projected 
by Carver and Whitworth in 1774. They ascended the Mis- 
souri, i)assed through the stupendous gates of the Rocky Moun- 
tains, hitherto unknown to white men ; discovered and explored 
the upper waters of the Columbia, and followed that river 
down to its mouth, where their countryman, Gray, had an- 
chored about twelve years previously. Here they passed the 
winter, and returned across the mountains in the following 
spring. The reports published by them of their expedition 
demonstrated the practicabihty of establishing a line of com- 
munication across the continent, from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific Ocean. 

It was then that the idea presented itself to the mind of Mrc 
Astor, of grasping with his individual hand this great enter- 
prise, which for years had been dubiously yet desirously con- 
templated by poAverful associations and maternal governments 
For some time he revolved the idea in his mind, gradually ex- 
tending and maturing his plans as his means of executing them 
augmented. The main feature of his scheme was to establish 
a line of trading posts along the Missouri and the Columbia, to 



ASTORIA. 35 

the mouth of the latter, where was to be founded the chief 
trading house or mart. Inferior posts would be established in 
the interior, and on all the tributary streams of the Columbia, 
to trade with the Indians ; these posts would draw their sup^ 
plies from the main establishment, and bring to it the peltries 
they collGcted. Coasting craft woulu be built and fitted out, 
tJso at the mouth of the Columbia, to trade, at favorable sea- 
sons, all along the northwest coast, and return, with the pro- 
ceeds of their voyages, to this place of deposit. Thus all the 
Indian trade, both ot the interior and the coast, w^ould converge 
to this point, and thence derive its sustenance. 

A ship was to be sent annually from New York to this main 
establishment with reinforcements and supplies, and with 
merchandise suited to the trade. It woLild take on board the 
furs collected during the preceding year, carry them to Canton, 
invest the proceeds m the rich merchandise of China, and re- 
turn tlius freighted to New York. 

As, in extending the American trade along the coast to the 
northwai'd, it might be brought into the vicinity of the Eussian 
Fur Company, and produce a hostile rivalry, it was part of the 
plan of Mr. Astor to conciliate the good- will of that company by 
the most amicable and beneficial arrangements. The Russian 
estabhshment was chiefly dependent for its supplies upon tran- 
sient trading vessels from the United States. These vessels, 
however, were often of more harm than advantage. Being 
o^vned by private adventurers or casual voyagers, who cared 
only for present profit, and had no interest in the permanent 
prosperity of the trade, they were reckless in their dealings 
with the natives, and made no scruple of supplying them with 
firearms. In this way several fierce tri»bes in the vicinity of 
the Eussian posts, or within the range of their trading excur- 
sions, were furnished with deadly means of warfare, and ren- 
dered troublesome and dangerous neighbors. 

The Eussian government had made representations to that of 
the United States of these malpractices on the part of its citi- 
zens, and urged to have this traffic in arms prohibited ; but, as 
it did not infringe any municipal law, our government could 
not interfere. Yet still it regarded, with solicitude, a traffic 
which, if persisted in, might give offence to Eussia, at that time 
ahnost the only power friendly to us. In this dileixana the 
government had applied to Mr. Astor, as one conversant in this 
branch of trade, for information that might point out a way to 
remedy the evil. This circumstance had suggested to him the 



36 ASTOIUA. 

idea of supplying the Russian establishment regularly by 
means of the annual ship that should visit the settlement at the 
mouth of the Columbia (or Oregon) ; by this means the casual 
trading vessels would be excluded from those parts of the 
coast where their malpractices were so injurious to the Rus- 
sians. 

Such is a brief outline of the enterprise projected by Mr. 
Astor, but which continually expanded in hisniind. Indeed it 
is due to him to say that he was not actuated by mere motives 
of individual profit. He was already wealthy beyond the 
ordinary desires of man, but he now aspired to that honorable 
fame which is awarded to men of similar scope of mind, who 
by their ^reat commercial enterprises have enriched nations, 
peopled wildernesses, and extended the bounds of empire. He 
considered his projected establishment at the mouth of the 
Columbia as the emporium to an immense connnerce ; as a col- 
ony that would form the germ of a wide civilization; that 
would, in fact, carry the American population across the 
Rocky Mountains and spread it along the shores of the Pacific, 
as it already animated the shores of the Atlantic. 

As Mr. Astor, by the magnitude of his commercial and 
financial relations, and the vigor and scope of his self-taught 
mind, had elevated himself into the consideration of govern- 
ment and the communion and correspondence with leading 
statesmen, he, at an early period, communicated his schemes 
to President Jefferson, soliciting the countenance of govern- 
ment. How highly they were esteemed by that eminent man, 
we may judge by the following passage, written by him some 
time afterward to Mr. Astor. 

' ' I remember well having invited your proposition on this 
subject,* and encouraged it with the assurance of every 
facility and protection which the government could properly 
afford. I considered, as a great public acquisition, the com- 
nfiencement of a settlement on that point of the western coast 
of America, and looked forward with gratification to the time 
when its descendants should have spread themselves through 
the whole length of that coast, covering it with free and 
independent Americans, unconnected with us but by the ties 

* On this point Mr. Jefferson's memory was in error. The proposition alluded to 
was the one, already mentioned, for the establishment of an American Fur Com- 
pany in the Atlantic States. The great enterprise beyond the mountains, that was 
to sweep the shores of the Pacific, originated in the mind of Mr. Astor, and wag 
propf-"ed by him to the govei-nmeiit. 



ASTORIA. 37 

of blood and interest, and enjoying like us the rights of &elf- 
governnient." 

The cabinet joined with Jefferson in warm approbation of 
the plan, and held out assurance of every protection that 
could, consistently with general policy, be afforded. 

Mr. Astor now prepared to carry his scheme into prompt 
execution. He had some competition, however, to apprehend 
and guard against. The Northwest Company, acting feebly 
and partially upon the suggestions of its former agent, Sir 
Alexander Mackenzie, had pushed one or two advanced trad- 
ing posts across the Eocky Mountains, into a tract of country 
visited by that enterprising traveller, and since named New 
Caledonia. This tract lay about two degrees north of the 
Columbia, and intervened between the territories of the 
United States and those of Eussia. Its length was about 
five hundred and fifty miles, and its breadth, from the moun- 
tains to the Pacific, from three hundred to three hundred and 
fifty geographical miles. 

Should the Northwest Company persist in extending their 
trade in that quarter, their competition might be of serious 
detriment to the plans of Mr. Astor. It is true they would 
contend with him to a vast disadvantage, from the checks 
and restrictions to w^hich they were subjected. They were 
straitened on one side by the rivalry of the Hudson's Bay 
Company ; then they had no good post on the Pacific where 
they could receive supplies by sea for their establishments 
beyond the mountains ; nor, if they had one, could they ship 
their furs thence to China, that great mart for peltries; the 
Chinese trade being comprised in the monopoly of the East 
India Company. Their posts beyond the mountains liad to be 
supplied in yearly expeditions, like caravans, from ]\Iontreal, 
and the furs conveyed back in the same way, by long, pre- 
carious, and expensive routes, across the continent. Mr. 
Astor, on the contrary, Vv^ould be able to supply his pro- 
posed establishment at the mouth of the Columbia by sea, 
and to ship the furs collected there directly to China, so as 
to undersell the Northwest Company in the great Chinese 
market. 

Still, the competition of two rival companies west of the 
Eocky Mountains could not but prove detrimental to both, 
and fraught with those eviJs, both to the trade and to the 
Indians, that had attended similar rivalries m the Canad?.s. 
To prevent any contest of the kind, lliorcforo, he made knovfn 



38 ASTORIA. 

his plan to the agents of the Northwest Company, and pro^ 
posed to interest them, to the extent of one third, in the trade 
thus to be opened. Some correspondence and negotiation 
ensued. The company were aware of the advantages which 
would be possessed by Mr. Astor should he be able to carry his 
scheme into effect; but they anticipated a monopoly of the 
trade beyond the mountains by their establishments in New 
Caledonia, and were loath to share it with an individual who 
had already proved a formidable competitor in the Atlantic 
trade. They hoped, too, by a timely move, to secure the 
mouth of the Columbia before Mr. Astor would be able to 
put his plans into operation; a.nd, that key to the internal 
trade once in their possession, the whole country wouJd be 
at their command. After some negotiation and delay, there- 
fore, they declined the proposition that had been made to 
them, but subsequently dispatched a party for the mouth of 
the Columbia, to estabhsh a post there before any expedition 
sent out by Mr. Astor might arrive. 

In the mean time Mr. Astor finding his overtures rejected, 
proceeded fearlessly to execute his enterprise in face of the 
whole power of the Northwest Company. His main establish- 
ment once planted at the mouth of the Columbia, he looked 
with confidence to ultimate success. Being able to reinforce 
and supi)ly it amply by sea, he would push his interior posts 
in every direction up the rivers and along the coast ; supply- 
ing the natives at a lower rate, and thus gradually obliging 
the Northwest Company to give up the competition, relinquish 
New Caledonia, and retire to the other side of the mountains. 
He would then have possession of the trade, not merely of the 
Columbia and its tributaries, but of the regions farther north, 
qmte to the Russian possessions. Such was a part of his bril- 
liant and comprehensive plan. 

He now proceeded, with all diligence, to procure proper 
agents and coadjutors, habituated to the Indian trade and to 
the life of the wilderness. Among the clerks of the Northwest 
Company Avere several of great capacity and experience, who 
had served out their probationary terms, but who, either 
through lack of interest and influence, or a want of vacancies, 
had not been promoted. They were consequently much dis- 
satisfied, and ready for any employment in which their talents 
and acquirements might be turned to better account. 

Mr. Astor made his overtures to several of these persons, 
and throe of t]iom entered into his views. One of these, Mr. 



ASTORIA. 39 

Alexander M'Kay, had accompanied Sir Alexander Mackenzie 
in both of his expeditions to the northwest coast of America in 
1789 and 1793. The other two were Duncan M'Dougal and 
Donald M'Kenzie. To these were subsequently added Mr. 
Wilson Price Hunt, of New Jersey. As this gentleman was 
a native born citizen of the United States, a person of great 
probity and worth, he was selected by Mr. Astor to be his chief 
agent, and to rejDresent him in the contemplated establishment. 

On the 23d of June, 1810, articles of agreement were entered 
into between Mr. Astor and those four gentlemen, acting for 
themselves and for the several persons who had already agreed 
to become, or should thereafter become associated under the 
firm of " The Pacific Fur Company." 

According to these articles Mr. Astor was t( be at the head 
of the company, and to manage its affairs in Ne\^ York. He 
was to furnish vessels, goods, provisions, arms, ammunition, 
and all other requisites for the enterprise at first cost and 
charges, provided that they did not, at any time, involve an 
advance of more than four hundred thousand dollars. 

The stock of the company was to be divided into a hundred 
equal shares, with the profits accruing thereon. Fifty shai^es 
were to be at the disposition of Mr. Astor, and the other fifty 
to be divided among the partners and their associates. 

Mr. Astor was to have the privilege of introducing other per- 
sons into the connection as partners, two of whom, at least, 
should be conversant with the Indian tra.de, and none of them 
entitled to more than three shares. 

A general meeting of the company was to be held annually 
at Columbia River, for the investigation and regulation of its 
affairs; at which absent members might be represented, and 
might vote by proxy under certain specified conditions. 

The association, if successful, was to continue for tv/enty 
years ; but the parties had full power to abandon and dissolve 
it within the first five years, should it be found unprofitable. 
For this term Mr. Astor covenanted to bear all the loss that 
might be incurred ; after which it was to be borne by ill the 
partners, in proportion to their respective shares. 

The parties of the second part were to execute faithfully such 
duties as might be assigned to them by a majority of the com- 
pany on the northwest coast, and to repair to such place or 
places as the majority might direct. 

An agent, appointed for the term of five years, was to reside 
at the principal establishment on the northwest coast, and 



40 ASTORIA. 

Wilson Price Hunt was the one chosen for the first term. 
Should the interests of the concern at any time require his ab- 
sence, a person was to be appointed, in general meeting, to 
take his place. 

Such were the leading conditions of this association; we 
shall now proceed to relate the various hardy and eventful 
expeditions, by sea and land, to which it gave rise. 



CHAPTER IV. 



In prosecuting his great scheme of commerce and coloniza- 
tion, two expeditions were devised by Mr. Astor, one by sea, 
the other by land. The former was to carry out the people, 
stores, ammunition, and merchandise requisite for establishing 
a fortified trading post at the mouth of Columbia River. The 
latter, conducted by Mr. Hunt, was to proceed up the Missouri, 
and across the Rocky Mountains, to the same j)oint ; exploring 
a line of coiumunication across the continent, and noting the 
places where interior trading posts might be established. - The 
expedition by sea is the one which comes first under considera- 
tion. 

A fine ship was provided, called the Tonquin, of two hundred 
and ninety tons burden, mounting ten guns, with a crew of 
twenty men. She carried an assortment of merchandise for 
trading with the natives of xhe seaboard and of the interior, 
together with the frame of a schooner, to be employed in the 
coasting trade. Seeds also were provided for the cultivation 
of the soil, and nothing waF. neglected for the necessary supply 
of the establishment. The command of the ship was intrusted 
to Jonathan Thorn, of New York, a lieutenant in the United 
States Navy, on leave of absence. He was a man of courage 
and firmness who had distinguished himself in our Tripolitan 
war, and, from being accustomed to naval discipline, was con- 
sidered by Mr. Astor as well fitted to take charge of an expe- 
dition of the kind. Four of the partners were to embark in 
the ship, namely, Messrs. M'Kay, M'Dougal, David Stuart, and 
his nephew, Robert Stuart. Mr. M'Dougal was empowered by 
Mr. Astor to act as his proxy, in the absence of Mr. Hunt, to 
vote for him and in his name, on any question that might 
come before any meeting of the persons interested in the voy- 
age. 



ASTORIA. 41 

Besides the partners, there were twelve clerks to go out in 
the ship, several of them natives of Canada, who had some 
experience in Indian trade. They were bound to the service 
of the company for five years, at the rate of one hundred dol- 
lars a year, payable at the expiration of the term, and an an- 
nual equipment o'i clothing to the amount of forty dollars. In 
case of ill conduct, they were liable to forfeit their wages and 
be dismissed; but, should they acquit themselves well, the 
confident expectation was held out to them of promotion, and 
partnership. Their interests were thus, to some extent, iden- 
tified with those of the company. 

Several artisans were likewise to sail in the ship, for the 
supply of the colony; but the most peculiar and characteristic 
part of this motley embarkation consisted of thirteen Canadian 
" voyageurs, " who had enlisted for five years. As this class 
of functionaries will continually recur in the course of the fol- 
lowing narrations, and as they form one of those distinct and 
strongly marked castes or orders of people springing up in this 
vast continent out of geographical circumstances, or the varied 
pursuits, habitudes, and origins of its population, we shall 
sketch a few of their characteristics for the information of the 
reader. 

The ''voyageurs" form a kind of confraternity in the Cana- 
(ias, like the arrieros, or carriers of Spain, and, like them, are 
employed in long internal expeditions of travel and traffic: 
with this difference, that the arrieros travel by land, the voy- 
ageurs by water ; the former with mules a.nd horses, the latter 
with batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs may be said to have 
sprung up out of the fur trade, having originally been employed 
by the early French merchants in their trading expeditions 
through the labyrinth of rivers and lakes of the boundless in- 
terior. They were coeval with the coureurs des hois, or ran- 
gers of the woods, already noticed, and, like them, in the in- 
tervals of their long, arduous, and laborious expeditions, were 
prone to pass their time in idleness and revelry about the trad- 
ing posts or settlements, squandering their hard earnings in 
heedless conviviality, and rivalling their neighbors, the Indians, 
in indolent mdulgence and an imprudent disregard of the mor- 
row. 

When Canada passed under British domination, and the old 
French trading houses were broken up, the voyageurs, like the 
coureurs des hois, were for a time disheartened and disconso- 
late, and with difficulty could reconcile themselves to the ser- 



42 ASTORIA. 

vice of the new-comers, so different in habits, manners, and 
language from their former employers. By degrees, however, 
they became accustomed to the change, and at length came to 
consider the British fur traders, and especially the members of 
the Northwest Company, as the legitimate lords of creation. 

The dress of these people is generally half civilized, half 
savage. They wear a capot or surcoat, made of a blanket, a 
striped cotton shirt, cloth trowsers, or leathern leggins, moc- 
casons of deerskin, and a belt of variegated worsted, from 
which are suspended the knife, tobacco-pouch, and other mi- 
plements. Their language is of the same piebald character, 
being a French patois, embroidered with Indian and English 
words and phrases. 

The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive 
rovings, in the service of individuals, but more especially of 
the fur traders. They are generally of French descent, and 
inherit much of the gayety and hghtness of heart of their an- 
cestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready for 
the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and com- 
plaisance ; and instead of that hardness and grossness which 
men in laborious life are apt to indulge toward each other, 
they are mutually obliging and accommodating ; interchanging 
kind offices, yielding each other assistance and comfort in 
every emergency, and using the familiar appellations of 
" cousin" and "brother" when there is in fact no relationship. 
Their natural good-will is probably heightened by a com- 
munity of adventure and hardship in their precarious and 
wandering life. 

No men are more submissive to their leaders and employers, 
more capable of enduring hardship, or more good-humored 
under privations. Never are they so happy as when on long 
and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers or coasting lakes; 
encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round their fires, 
and bivouacking in the open air. They are dexterous boat- 
men, vigorous and adroit with the oar and paddle, and will 
row from morning until night without a murmur. The steers- 
man often sings an old traditionary French song, with some 
regular burden in which they all join, keeping time with their 
oars ; if at any time they flag in spirits or relax in exertion, it 
is but necessary to strike up a song of the kind to put them all 
in fresh spirits and activity. The Canadian waters are vocal 
with these little French chansons, that have been echoed from 
mouth to mouth and transmitted from father to son, from the 



ASTORIA. 43 

earliest days of the colony ; and it has a pleasing effect, in a 
still golden summer evening, to see a batteau gliding across 
the bosom of r. lake and dipping its oars to the cadence of 
these quaint old ditties, or sweeping along in full chorus, on a 
bright sunny morning, down the transparent current of one of 
the Canada rivers. 

But we are talking of things that are fast fading away ! The 
march of mechanical invention is driving every thing poetical 
before it. The steamboats, which are fast dispelling the wild- 
ness and romance of our lakes and rivers, and aiding to sub- 
due the world into commonplace, are proving as fatal to the 
race of the Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of 
the boatmen of the Mississippi. Their glory is departed. They 
are no longer the lords of our internal seas and the gi-eat navi- 
gators of the wilderness. Some of them may still occasionally 
be seen coasting the lower lakes with their frail barks, and 
pitching their camps and lighting their fires upon the shores ; 
but their range is fast contracting to those remote waters and 
shallow and obstructed rivers unvisited by the steamboat. In 
the course of years they will gradually disappear ; their songs 
wUl die away hke the echoes they once awakened, and the 
Canadian voyageurs will become a forgotten race, or remem- 
bered, like their associates, the Indians, among the poetical 
images of past times, and as themes for local and romantic 
associations. 

An instance of the buoyant temperament and the profes- 
sional pride of these people was furnished in the gay and brag- 
gart style in which they arrived at New York to join the 
enterprise. They were determined to regale and astonish the 
people of the "States" with the sight of a Canadian boat and a 
Canadian crew. They accordingly fitted up a large but hght 
b?.rk canoe, such as is used in the fur trade ; transported it in 
n wagon from the banks of the St. Lawi-ence to the shores of 
Lake Champlain; traversed the lake in it, from end to end; 
hoisted it again in a wagon and wheeled it off to Lanyingburgh, 
and there launched it upon the waters of the Hudson. Down 
this river they plied their course merrily on a still summer's 
day, making its banks resound for the first time with their old 
French boat songs ; passmg by the villages with whoop and 
halloo, so as to make the honest Dutch farmers mistake them 
for a crcw of savages. In this way they swept, in full song, 
and with regular flourish of the paddle, round New York, in a 
GtiU summer evening, to the wonder and admiration of its in- 



44 ASTORIA. 

habitants, who had never before witnessed on their waters a 
nautical apparition of the kind. 

Such was the variegated band of adventurers about to em- 
bark in the Tonquin on this arduous and doubtful enterprise. 
While yet in port and on dry Ifind, in the bustle of preparation 
and the excitement of novelty, all was sunshine and promise. 
The Canadians, especially, who, with their constitutional 
vivacity, have a considerable dash of the gascon, were buoyant 
and boastful, and great braggarts as to the future : while all 
those who had been in the service of the Northwest Company, 
and engaged in the Indian trade, plumed themselves upon 
their hardiliood and their capacity to endure privations. If 
Mr. Astor ventured to hint at the difficulties they might have 
to encounter, they treated them with scorn. They were 
"northwesters;" men seasoned to hardships, who cared for 
neither wind nor weather. They could live hard, lie hard, 
sleep hard, eat dogs!— in a word they were ready to do and 
suffer any thing for the' good of the enterprise. With all 
this profession of zeal and devotion, Mr. Astor was not over- 
confident of the stability and firm faith of these mercurial 
beings. He had received information, also, that an armed 
brig from Halifax, probably at the instigation of the North- 
west Company, was hovering on the coast, watching for the 
Tonquin, with the purpose of impressing the Canadians on 
board of her, as British subjects, and thus interrupting the 
voyage. It was a time of doubt and anxiety, when the re- 
lations between the United States and Great Britain were 
daily assuming a more precarious aspect and verging towai'd 
that war which shortly ensued. As a precautionary measure, 
therefore, he required that the voyageurs, as they were about 
to enter into the service of an American association, and to 
reside within the limits of the Unite States, should take the 
oaths of naturalization as American citizens. To this they 
readily agreed, and shortly afterward assured him that they 
had actually done so. It was not until after they had sailec^ 
that he discovered that they had entirely deceived him in th^ 
matter. 

The confidence of Mr. Astor was abused in another quarter. 
Two of the partners, both of them Scotchmen, and recently in 
the service of the Northwest Company, had misgivings as to 
an enterprise which might clash with the interests and estab- 
lishments pi'otected by the British flag. They privately waited 
upon the British minister, Mr. Jackson, then in New York, 



ASTORIA. 45 

laid open to him the whole scheme of Mr. Astor, though in- 
trusted to them in confidence, and dependent, in a great meas- 
ure, upon secrecy at the outset for its success, and inquired 
whether they, as British subjects, could lawfully engage in it. 
The reply satisfied their scruples, while the information they 
imparted excited the surprise and admiration of Mr. Jackson, 
that a private individual should have conceived and set on foot 
at his own risk and expense so great an enterprise. 

This step on the part of those gentlemen was not known to 
Mr. Astor until some time afterward, or it might have modified 
the trust and confidence reposed in them. 

To guard against any interruption to the voyage by the 
armed brig, said to be off the harbor, Mr. Astor applied to 
Commodore Rodgers, at that time commanding at New York, 
to give the Tonquin safe convoy off the coast. The commodore 
having received from a liigh official source assurance of the 
deep interest which the government took in the enterprise, 
sent directions to Captain Hull, at that time cruising off the 
harbor in the frigate Constitution, to afford the Tonquin the 
required protection when she should put to sea. 

Before the day of embarkation, Mr. Astor addressed a letter 
of instruction to the four partners who were to sail in the ship. 
In this he enjoined them, in the most earnest manner, to cul- 
tivate harmony and unanimity, and recommended that all 
differences of opinions on points connected with the objects 
and interests of the voyage should be discussed by the whole, 
and decided by a majority of votes. He, moreover, gave them 
especial caution as to their conduct on arriving at their des- 
tined port ; exhorting them to be careful to make a favorable 
unpression upon the wild people among whom their lot and 
the fortunes of the enterprise would be cast. ' ' If you find 
them kind," said he, "as I hope you vv^ill, be so to them. If 
otherwise, act with caution and forbearance, and convince 
them that you come as friends." 

With the same anxious forethought he wrote a letter of in- 
struction to Captain Thorn, in which he urged the strictest 
attention to the health of himself and his crew, and to the pro- 
motion of good-humor and harmony on board his ship. "To 
prevent any misunderstanding," added he, "will require your 
particular good management." His letter closed with an in- 
junction of wariness in his intercourse with the natives, a sub- 
ject on which Mr. Astor was justly sensible he could not be too 
earnest. "I must recommend you," said he, "to be particu- 



46 ASTOniA. 

larly careful on the coast, and not to rely too much on the 
friendly disposition of the natives. All accidents which have 
as yet happened there arose from too much confidence in the 
Indians." 

The reader will bear these instructions in mind, as events 
will prove their wisdom and importance, and the disasters 
which ensued in consequence of the neglect of them. 



CHAPTER V. 



On the eighth of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea, 
where she was soon joined by the frigate Constitution. The 
wind was fresh and fair from the southwest, and the shij:* was 
soon out of sight of land and free from the apprehended dan- 
ger of interruption. The frigate, therefore, gave her "God 
speed," and left her to her course. 

The harmony so earnestly enjoined by Mr. Astor on this 
heterogeneous crew, and which had been so confidently prom- 
ised in the buoyant moments of preparation, was doomed to " 
meet with a check at the very outset. 

Captain Thorn was an honest, straightforward, but some- 
what dry and dictatorial commander, who, having been nur- 
tured in the system and discipline of a ship of war, and in a 
sacred opinion of the supremacy of the quarter-deck, was dis- 
posed to be absolute lord and master on board of his ship. He 
appears, moreover, to have had no great opinion, from the 
first, of the persons embarked with him. He had stood by 
with surl}^ contempt while they vaunted so bravely to Mr. 
Astor of all they could do and all they could undergo ; how 
they could face all weathers, put up with all kinds of fare, and 
even eat dogs with a relish, when no better food was to be had. 
He had set them down as a set of landlubbers and bragga 
docios, and was disposed to treat them accordingly. Mr. Astor 
was, in his eyes, his only real employer, being the father of the 
enterprise, who furnished all funds and bore all losses. The 
others were mere agents and subordinates, who lived at his 
expense. He evidently had but a narrow idea of the scope and 
nature of the enterprise, limiting his views merely to his 
part of it; everything beyond the concerns of his ship was 
out of his sphere; and anything that interfered with the 
routine of kis nautical duties put him in a passion. 



ASTORIA. 47 

The partners, on the other hand, had been brought up in the 
service of the Northwest Company, and in a i^rofound idea of 
the importance, dignity, and authority of a partner. They 
ah-eady began to consider themselves on a par with the 
M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the Frobishers, and the other 
magnates of the northwest, whom they had been accustomed 
to look up to as the great ones of the earth ; and they were a 
httle disposed, perhaps, to wear their suddenly-acquired honors 
with some air of pretension. Mr. Astor, too, had put them on 
their mettle with respect to the captain, describing him as a 
gunpowder fellow who would command his ship in fine style, 
and, if there was any fighting to do, would "blow all out of 
the water." 

Thus prepared to regard each other with no very cordial 
eye, it is not to be wondered at that the parties soon came 
into collision. On the very first night Captain Thorn began 
his man-of-war discipline by ordering the lights in the cabin to 
be extinguished at eight o'clock. 

The pride of the partners was immediately in arms. This 
was an inva.sion of their rights and dignities not to be borne. 
They were on board of their own ship, and entitled to consult 
their ease and enjoyment. M'Dougal was the champion of 
their cause. He was an active, irritable, fuming, vainglorious 
little man, and elevated in his own opinion, by being the proxy 
of Mr. Astor. A violent altercation ensued, in the course of 
which Thorn threatened to put the partners in irons should 
they prove refractory; upon which M'Dougal seized a pistol 
and swore to be the death of the captain should he ever offer 
such an indignity. It was some time before the irritated 
parties could be pacified by the more temperate bystanders. 

Such was the captain's outset with the partners. Nor did 
the clerks stand much higher in his good graces ; indeed, he 
seems to have regarded all the landsmen on board his ship as 
a kind of live lumber, continually in the way. The poor voy- 
ageurs, too, continually irritated his spleen by their ' ' lubber- 
ly" and unseemly habits, so abhorrent to one accustomed to 
the cleanliness of a man-of-war. These poor fresh- water sail- 
ors, so vainglorious on shore, and almost amphibious when on 
lakes and rivers, lost all heart and stomach the moment they 
were at sea. For days they suffered the doleful rigors and 
retchings of sea-sickness, lurking below in their berths in squa- 
lid state, or emerging now and then like spectres from the 
hatchways, in capotes and blankets, with dirty nightcaps. 



48 ASTORIA. 

grizzly beard, lantern visage and unhappy eye, shivering 
about the deck, and ever and anon crawhng to the sides of 
the vessel, and offering up their tributes to the windward, to 
the infinite annoyance of the captain. 

His letters to Mr. Astor, wherein he pours forth the bitter- 
ness of his soul, and his seamanlike impatience of what he 
considers the ' ' lubberly''^ character and conduct of those 
around him, are before us, and are amusingly characteristic. 
The honest captain is full of vexation on his own account, 
and solicitude on account of Mr. Astor, whose property he 
considers at the mercy of a most heterogeneous and wasteful 
crew. 

As to the clerks, he pronounces them mere pretenaers, not 
one of whom had ever been among the Indians, nor farther to 
the northwest than Montreal nor of higher rank than bar- 
keeper of a tavern or marker of a billiard-table, excepting one, 
who had been a schoolmaster, and whom he emphatically sets 
down for '' as foolish a pedant as ever lived." 

Then as to the artisans and laborers who had been brought 
from Canada and shipped at such expense, the three most re- 
spectable, according to the captain's account, were culprits, 
who had fled from Canada on account of their misdeeds; the 
rest had figured in Montreal as draymen, barbers, waiters and 
carriole drivers, and were the most helpless, worthless beings 
"that ever broke sea-biscuit." 

It may easily be imagined what a series of misunderstand- 
ings and cross-purposes would be likely to take place between 
such a crew and such a commander. The captain, in his zeal 
for the health and cleanliness of his ship, would make sweep- 
ing visitations to the "lubber nests" of the unlucky "voy- 
ageurs" and their companions in misery, ferret them out of 
their berths, make them air and wash themselves and their 
accoutrements, and oblige them to stir about briskly and take 
exercise. 

Nor did his disgust and vexation cease when all hands had 
recovered from sea sickness, and become accustomed to the 
ship, for now broke out an alarming keenness of appetite that 
threatened havoc to the provisions. What especially irritated 
the captain was the daintiness of some of his cabin passengers. 
They were loud in their complaints of the ship's fare, though 
their table was served with fresh pork, hams, tongues, smoked 
beef, and puddings. "When thwarted in their cravings for 
delicacies," said he, "they would exclaim that it was d— d 



ASTOPJA. 49 

hard tliey could not live as they pleased upon their own prop- 
erty, being on board of their own ship, freighted with their 
own merchandise. And these," added he, ''a.re the fine fel- 
lows vrho made such boast that they could ' eat dogs.' " 

In his indignation at what he termed their effeminacy, he 
would swear that he would never take them to sea again 
"without having Fly-market on the forecastle, Covent-gar- 
den on the poop, and a cool spring from Canada in the main 
top." 

As they proceeded on their voyage and got into the smooth 
seas and pleasant weather of the tropics, other annoyances oc- 
curred to vex the spirit of the captain. He had been crossed 
by the irritable mood of one of the partners ; ho was now ex- 
cessively annoyed by the good-humor of another. This was 
the elder Stuart, who was an easy soul, and of a social dispo- 
sition. He had seen life in Canada, and on the coast of Labra- 
dor; had been a fur trader in the former, and a fisherman on 
the latter ; and in the course of his experience had made vari- 
ous expeditions with voyageurs. He was accustomed, there- 
fore, to the famiharity which prevails between that class and 
their superiors, and the gossipings which take place among 
them when seated round a fire at their encampments. Stuart 
was never so happy as when he could seat himself on the deck 
with a number of these men round him, in camping style, 
smoke together, passing the pipe from mouth to mouth, after 
the manner of the Indians, sing old Canadian boat-songs, and 
tell stories about their hardships and adventures, in the course 
of which he rivalled Sinbad in his long tales of the sea, about 
his fishing exploits on the coast of Labrador. 

This gossiping famiharity shocked the captain's notions of 
rank and subordination, and nothing was so abhorrent to him 
as the community of pipe between master and man, and their 
mingling in chorus in the outlandish boat-songs. 

Then there was another whimsical source of annoyance to 
him. Some of the young clerks, who were making their first 
voyage, and to whom everything was new and strange, were, 
very rationally, in the habit of taking notes and keeping 
journals. This was a sore abomination to the honest captain, 
who held their literary pretensions in great contempt. "The 
collecting of materials for long histories of their voyages and 
travels," said he, in his letter to Mr. Astor, " appears to en- 
gross most of their attention." We can conceive what must 
have been the crusty impatience of the worthy navigator, 



50 ASTORIA. 

when, on any trifling occurrence in the course of the voyage, 
quite commonplace in his eyes, he saw these young landsmen 
running to record it in their journals; and what indignant 
glances he must have cast to right and left, as he worried 
about the deck, giving out his orders for the management of 
the ship, surrounded by singing, smoking, gossiping, scrib- 
bling groups, all, as he thought, intent upon the amusement 
of the passing hour, instead of the great purposes and interests 
of the voyage. 

It is possible the captain was in some degree right in his no- 
tions. Though some of the passengers had much to gain by 
the voyage, none of them had anything positively to lose. 
They were mostly young men, in the heyday of life ; and hav- 
ing got into fine latitudes, upon smooth seas, with a well- 
stored ship under them, and a fair wind in the shoulder of the 
sail, they seemed to have got into a holiday world, and were 
disposed to enjoy it. That craving desire, natural to untrav- 
elled men of fresh and lively minds, to see strange lands, and 
to visit scenes famous in history or fable, was expressed by 
some of the partners and clerks, with respect to some of the 
storied coasts and islands that lay within their route. The 
captain, however, who regarded every coast and island with a 
matter-of-fact eye, and had no more associations connected 
with them than those laid down in his sea-chart, considered 
all this curiosity as exceedingly idle and childish. "In the 
first part of the voyage," says he in his letter, "they were de- 
termined to have it said they had been in Africa, and tbere 
fore insisted on my stopping at the Cape de Verdes. Next 
they said the ship should stop on the coast of Patagonia, for 
they must see the large and uncommon inhabitants of that 
place. Then they must go to the island where Eobinson Cru- 
soe had so long lived. And lastly, they were determined to 
see the handsome inhabitants of Easter Island. " 

To all these resolves the captain opposed his peremptory 
veto, as " contrary to instructions." Then would break forth 
an unavailing explosion of wrath on the part of certain of the 
partners, in the course of which they did not even spare Mr. 
Astor for his act of supererogation in furnishing orders for the 
control of the ship while they were on board, instead of leaving 
them to the be judges where it would be best for her to touch, 
and how long to remain. The choleric M'Dougal took the lead 
in these railings, being, as has been observed, a little puffed up 
with the idea of being Mr. Astor's proxy. 



ASTORIA. 



51 



The captain, however, became only so much the more crusty 
and dogged in his adherence to his orders, and touchy and 
harsh in his dealings with his passengers, and frequent alter- 
cations ensued. He may in some measure have been in- 
fluenced by his seamanlike inpatience of the interference of 
landsmen, and his high notions of naval etiquette and quarter- 
deck authority ; but he evidently had an honest, trusty con- 
cern for the interests of his employer. He pictured to himself 
the anxious projector of the enterprise, who had disbursed so 
munificently in its outfit, calcidating on the zeal, fidelity, and 
singleness of purpose of his associates and agents ; while they, 
on the other hand, having a good ship at their disposal, and a 
deep pocket at home to bear them out, seemed ready to loiter 
on every coast, and amuse themselves in every port. 

On the fourth of December they came in sight of the Falkland 
Islands. Having been for some tune on an allowance of water, 
it vv^as resolved to anchor here and obtain a supply. A boat 
was sent into a small bay to take soundings. Mr. M'Dougal 
and Mr. M'Kay took this occasion to go on shore, but with a 
request from the captain that they would not detain the ship. 
Once on shore, however, they were in no haste to obey his 
orders, but rambled about in search of curiosities. The an- 
chorage proving unsafe, and water difficult to be procured, the 
captain stood out to sea, and made repeated signals for those on 
shore to rejoin the ship, but it was not until nine at night that 
they came on board. 

The wind being adverse, the boat was again sent on shore on 
the following morning, and the same gentlemen again landed, 
but promised to come oif at a moment's warning ; they again 
forgot their promise in their eag^r pursuit of wild geese and 
sea-wolves. After a tune the wind hauled fair, and signals 
were made for the boat. Half an hour elapsed, but no boat 
put off. The captain reconnoitred the shore with his glass, and, 
to his infinite vexation, saw the loiterers in the full enjoyment of 
their " wild-goose chase." Nettled to the quick, he immediately 
made sail. When those on shore saw the ship actually under 
way, they embarked with all speed, but had a hard pull of 
eight miles before they got on board, and then experienced but 
a grim reception, notwithstanding that they came well laden 
with the spoils of the chase. 

Two days afterward, on the seventh of December, they an- 
chored at Port Egmont, in the same island, where they re- 
mained four days taking in water and making repairs. This 



52 ASTORIA. 

was a joyous time for the landsmen. They pitched a tent on 
shore, had a boat at their command, and passed their time 
merrily in rambling about the island, and coasting along the 
shores, shooting sea-lions, seals, foxes, geese, ducks, and 
penguins. None were keener in pursuit of this kind of game 
than M'Dougal and David Stuart ; the latter was reminded of 
aquatic sports on the coast of Labrador, and his huntuig ex- 
ploits in the northwest. 

In the mean time the captain addressed himself steadily to 
the business of his ship, scorning the holiday spirit and useless 
pursuits of his emancipated messmates, and warning them, 
from time to time, not to wander away nor be out of hail. 
They promised, as usual, that the ship should never experience 
a moment's detention on their account, but as usual forgot 
their promise. 

On the morning of the 11th, the repairs being all finished, 
and the water-casks replenished, the signal was given to em- 
bark, and the ship began to weigh anchor. At this time several 
of the passengers were dispersed about the island, amusing 
themselves in various ways. Some of the young men had 
found two inscriptions, in English, over a place where two un- 
fortunate mariners had been buried in this desert island. As 
the inscriptions were nearly worn out by time and weather, 
they were playing the part of "Old Mortality," and piously 
renewing them. The signal from the ship summoned them 
from their labors ; they saw the sails unfurled, and that she was 
getting under way. The two sporting partners, however, Mr. 
M'Dougal and David Stuart, had strolled away to the south of 
the island in pursuit of penguins. It would never do to put off 
without them, as there was but one boat to convey the whole. 

While this delay took place on shore, the captain was storm- 
ing on board. This was the third time his orders had been 
treated with contempt, and the ship wantonly detained, and 
it should be the last ; so he spread all sail and put to sea, swear- 
ing he would leave the laggards to shift for themselves. It was 
in vain that those on board made remonstrances and en- 
treaties, and represented the horrors of abandoning men upon 
a sterile and uninhabited island : the sturdy captain was in- 
flexible. 

In the mean time the penguin hunters had joined the en- 
gravers of tombstones, but not before the ship was already out 
at sea. They aU, to the number of eight, threw themselves 
into their boat, which was about twenty feet in length, and 



ASTORIA. 515 

rowed with might and main. For three hours and a half did 
they tug anxiously and severely at the oar, swashed occasion 
ally by the surging waves of the open sea, while the ship in- 
exorably kept on her course, and seemed determined to leave 
them behind. 

On board of the ship was the nephew of David Stuart, a 
young man of spirit and resolution. Seeing, as he thought, 
the captain obstinately bent upon abandoning his uncle and 
the others, he seized a pistol, and in a paroxysm of wrath 
swore he would blow out the captain's brains unless he put 
about or shortened sail. 

Fortunately for all parties, the wind just then came ahead, 
and the boat was enabled to reach the ship ; otherwise, disas- 
trous circumstances might have ensued. We can hardly be- 
lieve that the captain really intended to carry his threat into 
full effect, and rather think he meant to let the laggards off 
for a long pull and a hearty fright. He declared, however, in 
his letter to Mr. Astor, that he was serious in his threats ; and 
there is no knowing how far such an iron man may push his 
notions of authority. 

"Had the wind," writes he, "(unfortunately) not hauled ahead 
soon after leaving the harbor's mouth, I should positively have 
left them; and, indeed, I cannot but tliink it an unfortunate 
circumstance for you that it so happened, for the first loss in 
this instance would, in my opinion, have proved the best, as 
they seem to have no idea of the value of property, nor any 
apparent regard for your interest, although interwoven with 
their own." 

This, it must be confessed, was acting with a high hand, and 
carrying a regard to the owner's property to a dangerous 
length. Various petty feuds occurred also between him and 
the partners in respect to the gocds on board the ship, some 
articles of which they wished to distribute for clothing among 
the men, or for other purposes which they deemed essential. 
The captain, however, kept a mastiff watch upon the cargo, 
and growled and snapped if they but offered to touch box or 
bale. ' ' It was contrary to orders ; it would forfeit his insur- 
ance; it was out of all rule." It was in vain they insisted 
upon their right to do so, as part owners, and as acting for the 
good of the enterprise; the captain only stuck to his point the 
more stanchly. They consoled themselves, therefore, by de- 
claring that as soon as they made land they would assert their 
rights, and do with ship and cargo as they pleased. 



54 ASTORIA. 

Besides these feuds between the captain and the partners, 
there were feuds between the partners themselves, occasioned, 
in some measure, by jealousy of rank. M'Dougal and M'Kay 
began to draw plans for the fort, and other buildings of the 
intended establishment. They agreed very well as to the out- 
line and dimensions, v^^hich were on a sufficiently grand scale; 
but when they came to arrange the details, fierce disputes 
\.rose, and they would quarrel by the hour about the distribu- 
A. on of the doors and windows. Many were the hard words 
tnd hard names bandied between them on these occasions, 
according to the captain's account. Each accused the other oi 
endeavoring to assume unwarrantable power, and to take the 
lead ; upon which Mr. M'Dougal would vauntingly lay down 
Mr. Astor's letter, constituting him liis representative and 
proxy, a document not to be disputed. 

These wordy contests, though violent, were brief ; ' ' and with- 
in fifteen minutes," says the captain, "they would be caress- 
ing each other like children. " 

Yfhile all this petty anarchy was agitating the little world 
within the Tonquin, the good ship prosperously pursued her 
course, doubled Cape Horn on the 25th of December, careered 
across the bosom of the Pacific, until, on the 11th of February, 
the snowy peaks of Owyhee were seen brightening above the 
horizon. 



CHAPTER VI. 



Owyhee, or Hawaii, as it is written by more exact orthogra^ 
phers, is the largest of the cluster, ten in number, of the Sand^ 
wich Islands. It is about ninety-seven miles in length and 
seventy-eight in breadth, rising gradually into three pyramidal 
summits or cones; the highest, Mouna Roa, being eighteen 
thousand feet above the level of the sea, so as to domineer 
over the whole Archipelago, and to be a landmark over a wido 
extent of ocean. It remains a lasting monument of the enter- 
prising and unfortunate Captain Cook, who was murdered by 
the natives of this island. 

The Sandwich Islanders, when first discovered, evinced a 
character superior to most of the savages of the Pacific Isles. 
They were frank and open in their deportment, friendly and 



ASTORIA. 55 

iiberal in their dealings, with an apt ingenuity apparent in all 
their rude inventions. 

The tragical fate of the discoverer, which, for a time, brought 
them under the charge of ferocity, was, in fact, the result of 
sudden exasperation, caused by the seizure of their chief. 

At the time of the visit of the Tonquin, the islanders had 
profited, in many respect-, by occasional intercourse with 
white men ; and had shown a quickness to observe and culti- 
vate those arts important to their mode of living. Originally 
they had no means of navigating the seas by which they were 
surrounded, superior to light pirogues which were little com- 
petent to contend with the storms of the broad ocean. As the 
islanders are not in sight of each other, there could, therefore, 
be but casual intercourse between them. The traffic with 
white men had put them in possession of vessels of superior 
description ; they had made themselves acquainted with their 
management, and had even made rude advances in the art of 
ship-building. 

These improvements had been promoted, in a great measure, 
by the energy and sagacity of one man, the famous Tamaaii- 
niaah. He had originally been a petty eri, or chief ; but, being 
of an intrepid and aspiring nature, he had risen in rank, and, 
availing himself of the superior advantages now afforded in 
navigation, had brought the whole Archipelago in subjection 
to his arms. At the time of the arrival of the Tonquin he had 
about forty schooners, of from twenty to thirty tons burden, 
and one old American ship. With these he maintained undis- 
puted sway over his insular domains, and carried on an inter- 
course with the chiefs or governors whom he had placed in 
command of the several islands. 

The situation of this group of islands, far in the bosom of 
the vast Pacific, and their abundant fertility, rendered them 
important stopping places on the highway to China, or to the 
northwest coast of America. Here the vessels engaged in the 
fur trade touched to make repairs and procure provisions ; and 
here they often slieltered themselves during the winters that 
occurred in their long coasting expeditions. 

The British navigators were, from the first, aware of the 
value of these islands to the purposes of commerce; and 
Tamaahmaah, not long after he had attained the sovereign 
sway, was persuaded by Vancouver, the celebrated discoverer, 
to acknowledge, on behalf of liimself and subjects, allegiance 
to the King of Great Britain. The reader cannot but call to 



^Q ASTOPdA. 

mind the visit which the royal family and court of the Sand-^ 
wich Islands was, in late years, induced to make to the court 
of St. James; and the serio-comic ceremonials and mock pa-* 
rade which attended that singular travesty of monarchal style. 

It was a part of the wide and comprehensive plan of Mr. 
Astor to estabhsh a friendly intercourse between these islands 
and his intended colony, which might, for a time, have occa- 
sion to draw supplies thence ; and he even had a vague idea of, 
some time or other, getting possession of one of their islands 
as a rendezvous for his shi^js, and a link in the chain of his 
commercial establishments. 

On the evening of the 12tli of February the Tonquip 
anchored in the bay of Karakakooa, in the island of Owyhee^ 
The surrounding shores were wild and broken, with overhang- 
ing cliffs and precipices of black volcanic rock. Beyond these^ 
however, the coimtry was fertile and v/ell cultivated, witk 
inclosures of yams, plantains, sweet potatoes, sugar-canes. 
and other productions of warm climates and teeming soils ; and 
the numerous habitations of the natives were pleasantly 
sheltered beneath clumps of cocoanut and brepcd-fruit trees, 
which afforded both food and shade. This mingled variety of 
garden and grove swept gradually op the sides of the moun- 
tains until succeeded by dense forests, which in turn gave 
place to naked and craggy rocks, until the summits rose intc 
the regions of perpetual snow. 

The royal residence of Tamaahmaah was at this time at 
another island named Woahoo. The island of Owyhee was 
undei the command of one of his eris, or chiefs, who resided 
at the village of Tocaigh, situated on a different part of the 
coast from the bay of Ka^'akakooa. 

On the morning after her arrival, the ship was surrounded 
by canoes and pirogues, filled with the islanders of both sexes, 
bringing off supplies of fruits and vegetables, bananas, plain- 
tains, watermelons, yams, cabbages, and taro. The captain 
vas desirous, however, of purchasing a^ number of hogs, but 
there were none to be had. The trade in pork was a roya) 
monopoly, and no subject of the great Tamaahmaah dared to, 
meddle with it. Such provisions as they could furnish, how- 
ever, were brought by the natives in abundance, and a lively 
intercourse was kept up during the day, in which the women 
mingled in the kindest manner. 

The islanders are a comely race, of a copper complexion. 
The men are tall and well made, with forms indicating 



ASTORIA. 57 

strength and activity ; the women with regular and occasion- 
ally handsome features, and a lascivious expression, character- 
istic of their temperament. Their style of dress was nearly 
the same as in the days of Captain Cook. The men wore the 
maro, a band one foot in width and several feet in length, 
swathed round the loins, and formed of tappa, or cloth of bark ; 
the kihei, or mantle, about six feet square, tied in a knot over 
one shoulder, passed under the opposite arm, so as to leave it 
bare and, falling in graceful folds before and behind, to the 
knee, so as to bear some resemblance to a Roman toga. 

The female dress consisted of the pau, a garment formed of 
a piece of tappa, several yards in length and one in width, 
wrapped round the waist and reaching, like a petticoat, to the 
knees. Over this a kihei or mantle, larger than that of the 
men, sometimes worn over both slioulders, like a shawl, some- 
times over one only. These mantles were seldom worn by 
either sex during the heat of the day, when the exposure of 
their persons was at first very revolting to a civilized eye. 

Toward evening several of the partners and clerks went on 
shore, where they were Avell received and hospitablj^ enter- 
tained. A dance was performed for their amusement, in which 
nineteen young women and one man figured very gracefully, 
singing in concert, and moving to the cadence of their song. 

All this, however, was nothing to the purpose in the eyes of 
Captain Tliorn, who, being disappointed in his hope of obtain- 
ing a supply of pork, or finding good water, was anxious to be 
off. This it was not so easy to effect. The passengers, once 
on shore, were disposed, as usual, to profit by the occasion. 
The partners had many inquiries to make relative to the island, 
with a view to business ; while the young clerks were delighted 
with the charms and graces of the dancing damsels. 

To add to their gratifications, an old man offered to conduct 
them to the spot where Captain Cook was massacred. The 
l)roposition was eagerly accepted, and all hands set out on a 
pilgrimage to the place. The veteran islander performed his 
X)romise faithfully, and pointed out the very spot where the un- 
fortunate discoverer fell. The rocks and cocoa-trees around 
bore record of the fact, in the marks of the balls fired from the 
boats upon the savages. The pilgrims gathered round the old 
man, and drew fi*om him all the particulars he had to relate 
respecting this memorable event; while the honest captain 
stood by and bit his nails with impatience. To add to his 
vexation, they employed themselves in knocking off pieces of 



58 ASTORIA. 

the rocks, and cutting off the bark of the trees marked by the 
balls, which they conveyed back to the ship as precious rehcs. 

Right glad, therefore, was he to get them and their treasures 
fairly on board, when he made sail from this unprofitable 
place, and steered for the Bay of Tocaigh, the residence of the 
chief or governor of the island, where he hoped to be more 
successful in obtaining supplies. On coming to anchor the 
captain went on shore, accompanied by Mr. M'Dougal and 
Mr. M'Kay, and paid a visit to the governor. This dignitary 
proved to be an old sailor, by the name of John Young ; who, 
after being tossed about the seas hke another Sinbad, had, by 
one of the whimsical freaks of fortune, been elevated to the 
government of a savage island. He received his visitors with 
more hearty familiarity than personages in his high station are 
apt to indulge, but soon gave them to understand that pro- 
visions were scanty at Tocaigh, and that there was no good 
water, no rain having fallen in the neighborhood in three 
years. 

The captain was immediately for breaking up the conference 
and departing, but the partners were not so willing to part with 
the nautical governor, who seemed disposed to be extremely 
communicative, and from whom they might be able to pro- 
cure some useful information. A long conversation accord- 
ingly ensued, in the course of which they made many inquiries 
about the affairs of the islands, their natural productions, and 
the possibility of turning them to advantage in the way of 
trade ; nor did they fail to inquire into the individual history of 
John Young, and how he came to be governor. This he gave 
with great condescension, running through the whole course 
of his fortunes, " even from his boyish days." 

He was a native of Liverpool, in England, and had followed 
the sea from boyhood, until, by dint of good conduct, he had 
risen so far in his profession as to be boatswain of an Ameri- 
can ship called the Eleanor, comm.a,nded by Captain Metcalf. 
In this vessel he had sailed in 1789, on one of those casual 
expeditions to the northwest coast in quest of furs. In the 
course of the voyage the captain left a small schooner, named 
the Fair American, at Nootka, with a crew of five men, com- 
manded by his son, a youth of eighteen. She was to follow on 
in the track of the Eleanor. 

In February, 1790, Captain Metcalf touched at tlie island of 
Mowee, one of the Sandwich group. While anchored here, a 
boat which was astern of the Eleanor was stolen, and a seaman 



ASTORIA. 59 

who was in it was killed. The natives, generally, disclaimed 
the outrage, and brought the shattered remains of the boat and 
the dead body of the seaman to the ship. Supposing that they 
had thus appeased the anger of the captain, they thronged, as 
usual, in great numbers about the vessel, to trade. Captain 
Metcalf, however, determined on a bloody revenge. The Elea- 
nor mounted ten guns. All these he ordered to be loaded with^ 
musket-balls, nails, and pieces of old iron, and then fired them, 
and the small arms of the ship, among the natives. The havoc 
was dreadful; more than a hundred, according to Young's 
account, were slain. 

After tliis signal act of vengeance, Captain Metcalf sailed 
from Mowee, and made for the island of Owyhee, where he 
was well received by Tamaahmaah. The fortunes of this war- 
like chief were at that time on the rise. He had originally 
been of inferior rank, ruling over only one or two districts of 
O^vyhee, but had gradually made himself sovereign of his na- 
tive island. 

The Eleanor remained some few days at anchor here, and an 
apparently friendly intercourse was kept up with the inhabi- 
tants. On the 17th March John Young obtained permission 
to pass the night on shore. On the following morning a signal 
gun summoned liim to return on board. 

He went to the shore to embark, but found all the canoes 
hauled up on the beach and rigorously tabooed, or interdicted. 
He would have launched one hunself, but was informed by 
Tamaahmaah that if he presumed to do so he would be put to 
death. 

Young was obhged to submit, and remained all day in great 
perplexity to account for this mysterious taboo, and fearful 
that some hostility was intended. In the evening he learned 
the cause of it, and his uneasiness was increased. It appeared 
that the vindictive act of Captain Metcalf had recoiled upon 
his own head. The schooner Fair American, commanded by 
his son, following in his track, had fallen into the hands of the 
natives to the southward of Tocaigh Bay, and young Metcalf 
and four of the crew had been massacred. 

On receiving: intelligence of this event, Tamaahmaah had 
immediately tabooed all the canoes, and interdicted all inter- 
course with the ship, lost the captain should learn the fate of 
the schooner, and take his revenge upon the island. For the 
same reason he prevented Young from rejoining his country- 
men. The Eleanor continued to fire signals from time to time 



60 ASTORIA. 

for two days, and tMfen sailed ; concluding, no doubt, that the 
boatswain had deserted. 

John Young was in despair when ho saAv the ship make sail, 
and found himself abandoned among savages; and savages, 
too, sanguinary in their character, and inflamed by acts ot 
hostility. He was agreeably disappointed, however, in expe- 
riencing nothing but kind treatment from Tamaahmaah and 
his people. It is true, he was narrowly watched whenever a 
vessel came in sight, lest he should escape and relate what had 
passed ; but at other times he was treated with entire confi- 
dence and great distinction. He became a prime favorite, cab- 
inet counsellor, and active coadjutor of Tamaahmaah, attend- 
ing him in all his excursions, whether of business or pleasure, 
and aiding in his warlike and ambitious enterprises. By de- 
grees he rose to the rank of a chief, espoused one of the beauties 
of the island, and became habituated and reconciled to his new 
way of hf e ; thinking it better, perhaps, to rule among savages 
than serve among white men ; to be a feathered chief than a 
tarpaAvling boatswain. His favor with Tamaahmaah never de- 
clined ; and when that sagacious, intrepid, and aspiring chief- 
tain had made himself sovereign over the whole group of 
islands, and removed his residence to Woahoo, he left his faith- 
ful adlierent John Young in command of Owyhee. 

Such is an outline of the history of Governor Young, as fur- 
nished by himself ; and we regret that we are not able to give 
any account of the state maintained by this seafaring worthy, 
and the manner in which he discharged his high functions; 
though it is evident he had more of the hearty familiarity of 
the forecastle than the dignity of the gubernatorial office. 

These long conferences were bitter trials to the patience of 
the captain, who had no respect either for the governor or his 
island, and was. anxious to push on in quest of provisions and 
water. As soon as he could get his inquisitive partners once 
more on board, he weighed anchor, and made sail for the 
island of Woahoo, the royal residence of Tamaahmaah. 

This is the most beautiful island of the Sandwich group. It 
is forty-six miles in length and twentj^^-three in breadth. A 
ridge of volcanic mountains extends through the centre, rising 
into lofty peaks, and skirted by undulating hills and rich 
plains, where the cabins of the natives peep out from beneath 
groves of cocoanut and other luxuriant trees. 

On the 21st of February the Tonquin cast anchor in the beau- 
tiful bay before theviUageof Waititi, (pronounced Why teetee), 



ASTORIA. Q\ 

the abode of Tamaahmaah. This village contained about two 
hundred habitations, composed of poles set in the gi^ound, tied 
together at the ends, and thatched with grass, and was situated 
in an open grove of cocoanuts. The royal palace of Tamaah- 
maah was a large house of two stories ; the lower of stone, the 
upper of wood. Eound this his body-guard kept watch, com- 
posed of twenty-four men, in long blue cassocks turned up 
with yellow, and each armed with a musket. 

While at anchor at this place, much ceremonious visiting 
and long conferences took place between the potentate of the 
islands and the partners of the company. Tamaahmaah came 
on board of the ship in royal style, in his double pirogue. He 
was between fifty and sixty years of age, above the middle 
size, large and well made, though somewhat corpulent. He 
was dressed in an old suit of regimentals, with a sword by his 
side, and seemed somewhat embarrassed by his magnificent 
attire. Three of his wives accompanied him. They were 
almost as tall, and quite as corpulent as himself; but by no 
means to be compared with him in grandeur of habiliments, 
wearing no other garb than the pau. With him also came his 
great favorite and confidential counsellor, Kraimaker; who, 
from holding a post equivalent to that of prime minister, had 
been familiarly named Billy Pitt by tJ^-e British visitors to the 
islands. 

The sovereign was received with befitting coj-emonial. The 
American flag was displayed, four guns w^re fir^d, and the 
partners appeared in scarlet coats, and conducted their illus- 
trious guests to the cabin, where they were regaled with wine. 
In this interview the partners endeavored to impress the mon- 
arch with a sense of their importance, and of the importan>?e 
of the association to which they belonged. They let him know 
that they were eris, or chiefs, of a great company about to bo 
established on the northwest coast, and talked of the probability 
of opening a trade with his islands, and of sending ships there 
occasionally. All this was gratifying and interesting to him. 
for he was aware of the advantages of trade, and desirous oi 
promoting frequent intercoTirse with white men. He encour- 
aged Europeans and Americans to settle in his islands, and 
intermarry with his subjects. There were betAveen twenty and 
thirty white men at that time resident in the island, but many 
of them were mere vagabonds, who remained there in hopes 
of leading a lazy and an easy life. For such Tamaahmaah had 
a, great contempt ; those only had his esteem and countenance 



Q^ ASTORIA. 

who knew some trade or mechanic art, and were sober and in" 
dustrious. 

On the day subsequent to the monarch's visit, the partners 
landed and waited upon him in return. Knowing the eifect of 
show and dress upon men in savage hfe, and wishing to make 
a favorable impression as the eris, or chiefs, of the great Amer- 
ican Fur Company, some of them appeared in Highland plaids 
and kilts, to the great admiration of the natives. 

While visits of ceremony and grand diplomatic conferences 
were going on between the partners and the king, the captain, 
in his plain, matter-of-fact vfay, was pushing what he consid- 
ered a far more important negotiation— the purchase of a sup- 
ply of hogs. He found that the king had profited in more 
ways than one by his intercourse with white men. Above all 
other arts he had learned the art of driving a bargain. He was 
a magnanimous monarch, but a shrewd pork merchant, and 
perhaps thought he could not do better with his future allies, 
the American Fur Comx^any, than to begin by close dealing. 
Several interviews were requisite, and much bargaining, be- 
fore he could be brought to part with a bristle of his bacon, 
and then he insisted upon being paid in hard Spanish dollars, 
giving as a reason that he wanted money to purchase a frigate 
from liis brother George, as he affectionately termed the King 
of England.* 

At length the royal bargain was concluded : the necessary 
supply of hogs obtained, besides several goats, two sheep, a 
quantity of poultry, and vegetables in abundance. The part- 
ners now urged to recruit their forces from the natives of this 



* It appears, from the accounts of subsequent voyages, that Tamaahmaah, after- 
ward succeeded in his wish of purchasing a large ship. In this he sent a cargo of 
sandal-wood to Canton, having discovered that the foreign merchants trading with 
him made large profits on this wood, shipped by them from the islands to the 
Chinese markets. The ship was manned by natives, but the officers were English- 
men. She accomplished her voyage, and returned in safety to Ihe islands, with the 
Hawaiian flag floating gloriously in the breeze. The king hastened on board, ex- 
pecting to find his sandal-wood converted into crapes and damasks, and other rich 
stuffs of China, but foimd. to his astonishment, b}^ the legerdemain of traffic, his 
cargo had all disappeared, and. In place of it, remained a bill of charges amounting 
to three thousand dollars. It was some time before he could be made to compre- 
hend certain of the most important items of the bill, snch as pilotage, anchorage, 
and custom-house fees; but when he discovered that maritime states in other 
countries derived large revenues in this manner, to the great cost of the merchant, 
" Well," cried be, '" then I will have harbor fees also." He established them ac- 
cordingly. Pilotage a dollar a foot on the draft of each vessel. Anchorage from 
sixty to seventy dollars. In this way he greatly increased the royal revenue, and 
turned his China speculation to account. 



ASTORIA. 63 

island. They declared they had never seen watermen equal to 
them, even among the voyageurs of the north v/est; and in- 
deed they are remarkable for their skill in managing: their 
light craft, and can swim and dive hko water-fowl. The part- 
ners were inclined, therefore, to take thirty or forty with them 
to the Columbia, to be employed in the service of the company. 
The captain, however, objected that there was not room in his 
vessel for the accommodation of such a number. Twelve, 
only, were therefore enlisted for the company, and as many 
more for the service of the ship. The former engaged to serve 
for the term of three years, during which they were to be fed 
and clothed, and at the expiration of the time were to receive 
one hundred dollars in merchandise. 

And now, having embarked his hve-stock, fruits, vegeta,bles. 
and water, the captain made ready to set sail. How much the 
honest man had suffered in spirit by what he considered the 
freaks and vagaries of his passengers, and how little he had 
understood their humors and intentions, is amusingly shown 
in a letter wi-itten to Mr. Astor from Woahoo, which contains 
his comments on the scenes we have described. 

" It would be difficult," he writes, "to imagine the frantic 
gambols that are daily played off here ; sometimes dressing in 
red coats, and otherwise very fantastically, and collecting a 
number of ignorant natives around them, telling them that 
they are the great earis of the northwest, and making arrange- 
ments for sending three or four vessels yearly to them from 
the coast with spars, etc. ; wliile those very natives cannot 
even fm^nish a hog to the ship. Then dressing in Highland 
plaids and kilts, and making similar arrangements, with pres- 
ents of rum, wine, or anything that is at hand. Then taking 
a number of clerks and men on shore to the very spot on 
which Captain Cook was killed, and each fetching off a piece 
of the rock or tree that was touched by the shot. Then sitting 
down with some white man or some native who can be a httle 
understood, and collecting the history of those islands, of Ta- 
maahmaah's wars, the curiosities of the islands, etc., preparatory 
to the histories of their voyages; and the collection is indeed 
ridiculously contemptible. To enumerate the thousand in- 
stances of ignorance, filth, etc., or to particularize all the fran= 
tic gambols that are daily practised, would require vohrmes." 

Before embarking the groat eris of the American Fur Com- 
pany took leave of their illustrious ally in due style, with 
many professions of lasting friendship and promises of future 



64 " ASTORIA. 

intercourse; while the matter-of-fact captain anathematized 
him in his heart for a grasping, trafficking savage, as shrewd 
and sordid in his deahngs as a white man. As one of the ves- 
sels of the company will, in the course of events, have to ap- 
peal to the justice and magnanimity of this island potentate, 
we shall see how far the honest captain was right in his 
opinion. 



CHAPTER VII. 



It was on the 28th of February that the Tonquin set sail from 
the Sandwich Islands. For two days the wind was contrary, 
and the vessel was detained in their 7ieighborhood ; at length a 
favorable breeze sprang up, and in a, little while the rich 
groves, green hiUs, and snowy peaks of those happy islands 
one after another sank from sight, or melted into the blue 
distance, a,nd the Tonquin ploughed her course toAvard the 
sterner regions of the Pacific. 

The misunderstandings between the captain and his passen- 
gers still continued ; or rather, increaeed in gravity. By his 
altercations and his moody humors he had cut himself off from 
aU community of thought or freedom of conversation with 
them. He disdained to ask any questions as to their proceed- 
ings, and could only guess at the meaning of their movements, 
and in so doing indulged in conjectures and suspicions wliich 
produced the most whimsical self -torment. 

Thus, in one of his disputes with them, relative to the goods 
on board, some of the packages of which they wished to open, 
to take out articles of clothing for the men, or presents for tho 
natives, he was so harsh and peremptory that they lost all pa- 
tience, and hinted that they were the strongest party, and 
might reduce him to a very ridiculous dilemma, by taking from 
him the command. 

• A thought noA\^ flashed across the captain's mind that they 
really had a design to depose him, and that, having picked up 
some information at Owyhee, possibly of war betv/een the 
United States and England, they meant to alter the destination 
of the voyage, perhaps to seize upon ship and cargo for their 
own use. 

Once having conceived this suspicion, everything went to 



ASTOniA. g5 

foster it. They had distributed firearms among some of their 
men, a common precaution among the fur traders when ming- 
hng with the natives. This, however, looked hke preparation. 
Then several of the partners and clerks and some of the men, 
being Scotsmen, were acquainted with the Gaehc, and held long 
conversations together in that language. These convei'sations 
were considered by the captain of a "mysterious and unwar- 
rantable nature," and related, no doubt, to some foul conspir- 
acy that was brewuig among them. He frankly avows such 
suspicions in his letter to Mr. Astor, but intimates that he stood 
ready to resist any treasonous > outbreak, and seems to think 
that the evidence of preparation on his part had an effect in 
overawing the conspirators. 

The fact is, as we have since been informed by one of the 
parties, it was a mischievous pleasure with some of the partners 
and clerks, who were young men, to play upon the suspicious 
temper and splenetic humors of the captain. To this we may 
ascribe many of their wliimsical pranks and absurd j^roposi- 
tions, and, above all, their mysterious colloquies in Gaehc. 

In this sore and irritable mood did the captain pursue his 
course, keeping a wary eye on every movement, and bristhng 
up whenever the detested sound of the Gaelic language grated 
upon his ear. Nothing occurred, however, materially to disturb 
the resiciio of the voyage, excepting a violent storm; and on 
the twenty-second of March the Tonquin an*ived at the mouth 
of the Oregon or Columbia Eiver. 

The aspect of the river and the adjacent coast was wild and 
dangerous. The mouth of the Columbia is upward of four 
miles wide, with a peninsula and promontory on one side, and 
a long low spit of land on the other ; between which a sand-bar 
and chain of breakers almost block up the entrance. The in- 
terior of the country rises into successive ranges of mountains, 
v/hich, at the time of the arrival of the Tonquin, were covered 
with snow. 

A fresh wind from the northwest sent a rough tumbling se s 
upon the coast, which broke upon the bar in furious surges, 
and extended a sheet of foam almost across the mouth of tho 
river. Under these circumstances the captain did not think it 
prudent to approach within three leagues, until the bar should 
be sounded and the channel ascertained. Mr. Fox, the chief 
mate, was ordered to this service in the whaleboat, accompa- 
nied by John Martin, an old seaman, who had formerly visited 
the river, and by three Canadians. Fox requested to have 



QQ ASTORIA. 

regular sailors to man the boat, but the captain would not 
spare them from the service of the ship, and supposed the Ca- 
nadians, being expert boatmen on lakes and rivers, were com- 
petent to the service, especially when directed and aided by 
Fox and Martin. Fox seems to have lost all firmness of spirit 
on the occasion, and to have regarded the service with a mis- 
giving heart. He came to the partners for sympathy, know- 
ing their differences with the captain, and the tears were in 
his eyes as he represented his case. " I am sent off," said he, 
' ' without seamen to man my boat, in boisterous weather, and 
on the most dangerous part of the northwest coast. My uncle 
was lost a few years ago on this same bar, and I am now going 
to lay my bones alongside of his." The partners sympathized 
in his apprehensions, and remonstrated with the captain. The 
latter, however, was not to be moved. He had been displeased 
with Mr. Fox in the earlier part of the voyage, considering him 
indolent and inactive, and probably thought his present repug- 
nance arose from a want of true nautical spirit. The interfer- 
ence of the partners in the business of the ship, also, was not 
calculated to have a favorable effect on a stickler for authority 
like himself, especially in his actual state of feeling toward 
them. 

At one o'clock p.m.. therefore, Fox and his comrades set of? 
in the whaleboat, which is represented as small in size and 
crazy in condition. All eyes were strained after the little bark 
as it pulled for shore, rising and sinking with the huge rolling 
waves, until it entered, a mere speck, among the foaming 
breakers, and was soon lost to view. Evening set in, night 
succeeded and passed away, and morning returned, but with- 
out the return of the boat. 

As the Avind had moderated, the ship stood near to the land, 
so as to command a view of the river's mouth. Nothing was 
to be seen but a wild chaos of tumbling waves breaking upon 
the bar, and apparently forming a foaming barrier from shore 
to shore. Toward night the ship again stood out to gain sea- 
room, and a gloom was visible in every countenance. The 
captain himself shared in the general anxiety, and probably 
repented of his peremptory orders. Another weary and watch- 
ful night succeeded, during which the wind subsided, and the 
weather became serene. 

On the following da.y, the ship, having drifted near the land, 
anchored in fourteen fathoms water, to the northward of the 
long peninsula or promontory which forms the north side of 



ASTORIA. 67 

the entrance, and is called Cape Disappointment. The pinnace 
was then manned, and two of the partners, Mr. David Stuart 
and Mr. M'Kay, set off in the hope cf learning something of 
the fate of the whaleboat. The surf, however, broke with such 
violence along the shore that they could find no landing place. 
Several of the natives appeared on the beach and made signs 
to them to row round the cape, but they thought it most pru- 
dent to return to the ship. 

The wind now springing up, the Tonquin got under way, and 
stood in to seek the channel, but was again deterred, by the 
frightful aspect of the breakers, from venturing within a 
league. Here she hove to, and Mr. Mumford, the second mate, 
was dispatched with four hands, in the pinnace, to sound 
across the channel, until he should find four fathoms depth. 
The pinnace entered among the breakers, but was near being 
lost, and with difficulty got back to the ship. The captain in- 
sisted that Mr. Mumford had steered too much to the south- 
ward. He now turned to Mr. Aiken, an able mariner, destined 
to command the schooner intended for the coasting trade, and 
ordered him, together with John Coles, sailmaker, Stephen 
Weekes, armorer, and two Sandwich Islanders, to proceed 
ahead and take soundings while the ship should follow under 
easy sail. In this way they proceeded until Aiken had ascer- 
tained the channel, when signal was given from the ship for 
him to return on board. He was then within pistol-shot, but 
so furious was the current, and tumultuous the breakers, that 
the boat became unmanageable, and was hurried away, the 
crew crying out piteously for assistance. In a few moments 
she could not be seen from the ship's deck. Some of the 
passengers chmbed to the mizzentop, and beheld her still 
struggling to reach the ship; but shortly after she broached 
broadside to the waves, and her case seemed desperate. The 
attention of those on board of the ship was now called to their 
own safety. They were in shallow water; the vessel struck 
repeatedly, the waves broke over her, and there was danger of 
her foundering. At length she got into seven fathoms water, 
and the wind lulling, and the night coming on, cast anchor. 
With the darlvness their anxieties increased. The wind 
whistled, the sea roared ; the gloom was only broken by the 
ghastly glare of the foaming breakers, the minds of the sea- 
men were full of dreary apprehensions, and some of them 
fancied they heard the cries of their lost comrades mingling 
with the uproar of the elements. For a time, too, the rapidly- 



68 ASTORIA. 

ebbing tide threatened to sweep them from their precarious 
anchorage. At length the reflux of the tide and the springing 
up of the wind enabled them to quit their dangerous situation, 
and take shelter in a small bay within Cape Disappointment, 
where they rode in safety during the residue of a stormy night, 
and enjoyed a brief interval of refreshing sleep. 

With the hght of day returned theii' cares and anxieties. 
They looked out from the masthead over a wild coast and 
wilder sea, but could discover no trace of the two boats and 
their crews that were missing. Several of the natives came on 
board with peltries, but there was no disposition to trade. 
They were interrogated by signs after the lost boats, but could 
not understand the inquiries. 

Parties now went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. 
One of these was headed by the captain. They had not pro- 
ceeded far when they beheld a person at a distance in civilized 
garb. As he drew near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer. 
There was a burst of joy, for it was hoped his comrades were 
near at hand. His story, however, was one of disaster. He 
and his companions had found it impossible to govern their 
boat, having no rudder, and being beset by rapid and whirling 
currents and boisterous surges. After long struggling they 
had let her go at the mercy of the waves, tossing about some- 
times with her bow, sometimes with her broadside to the 
surges, threatened each instant with destruction, yet re- 
peatedly escaping, untd a huge sea broke over and swamped 
her. Weekes was overwhelmed by the boiling Avaves, but 
emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions. 
Aikin and Coles were not to be seen ; near him were the two 
Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing 
that they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the 
boat floating near to him, he seized hold of it. The two 
islanders joined him, and uniting their forces, they succeeded 
in turning the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her 
stern and rocking her, they forced out so much water that she 
was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking. One of 
the islanders now got in and in a little while bailed out the 
water with his hands. The other swam about and collected 
the oars, and they all three got once more on board. 

By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, 
and Weekes called on his companions to row for land. They 
were so chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they 
lost all heart, and absolutely refused. Weekes was equally 



ASTORIA. 69 

chilled, but had superior sagacity and self-command. He 
counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold 
produces by keeping himself in constant exercise ; and seeing 
that the vessel was advancing, and that everything depended 
upon himseK, he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, 
and into quiet water. 

Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; ms 
companion threw hunself on his corpse and could not be per 
suaded to leave him. The dismal night wore away amid these 
horrors; as the day dawned, Weekes found himself near the 
land. He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid of 
the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach. 

Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of 
life, he aided Mm to leave the boat, and set out with him 
toward the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was 
too feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to aban- 
don him to his fate and provide for his own safety. FaUing 
upon a beaten path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came 
to a part of the coast where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld 
the ship at anchor, and was met by the captain and his party. 
After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were 
dispatched to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate 
islander. They returned at night without success, though they 
had used the utmost diligence. On the following day the 
search was resumed, and the poor fellow was at length dis- 
covered lying beneath a group 6f rocks, his legs swollen, his 
feet torn and bloody, from walking through bushes and briers, 
and himself half dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes 
and this islander were the only survivors of the crew of the 
jolly-boat, and no trace was ever discovered of Fox and his 
party. Thus eight men were lost on the first approach to the 
coast— a commencement that cast a gloom over the spirits of 
the whole party, and was regarded by some of the supersti- 
tious as an omen that boded no good to the enterprise. 

Toward night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore to bury 
the body of their unfortunate countryman who had perished 
in the boat. On arrivmg at the place where it had been left, 
they dug a grave in the sand, in which they deposited the 
corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under 
the chin, and a smaU quantity of tobacco, as provisions for its 
journey in the land of spirits. Having covered the body with 
sand and flints, they kneeled along the grave in a double row, 
with their faces turned to the east, while one who officiated as 



70 ASTOUIA. 

a priest sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so doing 
he recitea a kind of prayer or invocation, to which, at inter- 
vals, the others made responses. Such were the simple rites 
performed by these poor savages at the grave of their comrade 
on the shores of a strange land ; and when these were done, 
they rose and returned in silence to the ship, without once 
casting a look behind. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



The Columbia, or Oregon, for the distance of thirty or forty 
Iniles from its entrance into the sea, is, properly speaking, a 
mere estuary, indented by deep bays so as to vary from three 
to seven miles in width, and is rendered extremely intricate 
and dangerous by shoals reaching nearly from shore to shore, 
on which, at times, the winds and currents produce foaming 
and tumultuous breakers. The mouth of the river proper is 
but about half a mile wide, formed by the contracting shores 
of the estuary. The entrance from the sea, as we have already 
observed, is bounded on the south side by a flat, sandy spit of 
land stretching into the ocean. This is commonly called Point 
Adams. The opposite or northern side is Cape Disappoint- 
ment, a kind of peninsula, termiiiating in a steep knoll or 
promontory crowned with a forest of pine trees, and connected 
with the main-land by a low and narrow neck. Immediately 
within this cape is a wide, open bay, terminating at Chinook 
Point, so called from a neighboring tribe of Indians. This was 
called Baker's Bay, and here the Tonquin was anchored. 

The natives inhabiting the lower part of the river, and with 
whom the company was likely to have the most frequent in- 
tercourse, were divided at this time into foiu- tribes — the 
Chinooks, Clatsops, Wahkiacums, and Cathlamahs. They 
resembled each other in pei-son, dress, language, and manner, 
and were probably from the same stock, but broken into 
tribes, or rather hordes, by those feuds and schisms frequent 
among Indians. 

These people generally live by fishing. It is true they occa- 
sionally hunt the elk and deer, and ensnare the waterfowl of 
their ponds and rivers, but these are casual luxuries. Their 
chief subsistence is derived from the salmon and other fish 
which abound in the Columbia and its tributary streams, 



ASTORIA. 71 

aided by roots and herbs, especially the wappatoo, which ig 
found on the islands of the river. 

As the Indians of the plains who depend upon the chase are 
bold and expert riders, and pride themselves upon their horses, 
so these piscatory tribes of the coast excel m the management 
of canoes, and are never more at home than when riding upon 
the waves. Their canoes vary in form and size. Some are 
upward of fifty feet long, cut out of a single tree, either fir oi 
white cedar, and capable of carrying thirty persons. Thej/ 
have thwart pieces from side to side about three inches thick, 
and their gunwales flare outward, so as to cast off the surges 
of the waves. The bow and stern are decorated with grotesque 
figures of men and animals, sometimes five feet in height. 

In managing their canoes they kneel two and two along the 
bottom, sitting on their heels, and wielding paddles from foui^ 
to five feet long, while one sits on the stern and steers with a 
paddle of the same kind. The woixien are equally expert with 
the men in managing the canoe, and generally take the helm. 

It is surprising to see with what fearless unconcern these 
savages venture in their light barks upon the roughest and 
most tempestuous seas. They seem o ride upon the waves 
like sea-fowl. Should a surge throw the canoe upon its side 
and endanger its overturn, those to windAvard lean over the 
upper gunwale, thrust their paddles deep into the wave, appa- 
rently catch the water and force it under the canoe, and by 
this action not merely regain an equilibrium, bvit give their 
bark a vigorous impulse forward. 

The effect of different modes of life upon the human frame 
and human character is strikingly instanced in the contrast 
between the hunting Indians of the prairies and the piscatory 
Indians of the sea-coast. The former, continually on horse- 
back scouring the plains, gaining their food by hardy exercise, 
and subsisting chiefly on flesh, are generally tall, sinewy, 
meagre, but well formed, and of bold and fierce deportment; 
the latter, lounging about the river banks, or squatting and 
curved up in their canoes, are generally low in stature, iU- 
shaped, with crooked legs, thick ankles, and broad flat feet. 
Tliey are inferior also in muscular power and activity, and in 
game qualities and appearance, to their hard-riding brethren 
of the prairies. 

Having premised these few particulars concerning the neigh- 
boring Indians, we will return to the immediate concerns of 
the Tonquin and her crew. 



72 ' ASTORIA. 

Further search was made for Mr. Fox and his party, but 
with no better success, and they were at length given up as 
lost. In the mean time the captain and some of the partners 
explored the river for some distance in a large boat, to select a 
suitable place for the trading post. Their old jealousies and 
differences continued ; they never could coincide in their 
choice, and the captain objected altogether to any site so high 
up the river. They all returned, therefore, to Baker's Bay in 
no very good humor. The partners proposed to examine the 
opposite shore, but the captain was impatient of any further 
delay. His eagerness to "get on" had increased upon him. 
He thought all these excursions a sheer loss of time, and was 
resolved to land at once, build a shelter for the reception of 
that part of his cargo destined for the use of the settlement, 
and, having cleared his ship of it and of his irksome ship- 
mates, to depart upon the prosecution of his coasting voyage, 
according to orders. 

On the following day, therefore, without troubling himself 
to consult the partners, he landed in Baker's Bay, and pro- 
ceeded to erect a shed for the reception of the rigging, equip- 
ments, and stores of the schooner that was to be built for the 
use of the settlement. 

This dogged determination on the part of the sturdy captain 
gave high offence to Mr. M'Dougal, who now considered him- 
self at the head of the concern, as Mr. Aster's representative 
and proxy. He set off the same day (April 5th), accompanied 
by Mr. David Stuart, for the southern shore, intending to be 
back by the seventh. Not having the captain to contend with, 
they soon pitched upon a spot which appeared to them favor- 
able for the intended establishment. It was on a point of land, 
called Point George, having a very good harbor, where vessels, 
not exceeding two hundred tons burden, might anchor within 
fifty yards of the shore. 

After a day thus profitably spent they recrossed the river, 
but landed on the northern shore several miles above the an- 
choring grounds of the Tonquin, in the neighborhood of Chi- 
nooks, and visited the village of that tribe. Here they were 
received with great hospitality by the chief, who was named 
Comcomly, a shrewd old savage, with but one eye, who wiU 
occasionally figure in this narrative. Each village forms a 
petty sovereignty, governed by its own chief, who, however, 
possesses but little authority, unless he be a man of wealth 
and substance— that is to say, possessed of canoes, slaves and 



ASTORIA. 73 

wives. The greater number of these the greater is the chief. 
How many wives this one-eyed potentate maintained we are 
not told, but he certainly possessed great sway, not merely over 
his own tribe, but over the neighborhood. 

Having mentioned slaves, we would observe that slavery 
exists among several of the tribes beyond the Rocky Moun- 
tains. The slaves are well treated while in good health, but 
occupied in all kinds of drudgery. Should they become use- 
less, however, by sickness or old age, they are totally neglect- 
ed, and left to perish ; nor is any respect paid to their bodies 
after death. 

A singular custom prevails, not merely among the Chinooks, 
but among most of the tribes about this part of the coast, 
■which is the flattening of the forehead. The process by which 
this deformity is effected commences immediately after birth. 
The infant is laid in a wooden trough, by way of cradle. The 
end on which the head reposes is higher than the rest. A pad- 
ding is placed on the forehead of the infant, with a piece of bark 
above it, and is pressed down by cords, which pass through 
holes on each side of the trough. As the tightening of the 
padding and the pressing of the head to the board is gradual, 
the process is said not to be attended with much pain. The 
appearance of the infant, however, while in this state of com- 
pression, is whimsically hideous, and "its little black eyes,'^ 
we are told, "being forced out by the tightness of the band- 
ages, resemble those of a mouse choked in a trap." 

About a year's pressure is sufficient to produce the desired 
effect, at the end of which time the child emerges from its 
bandages a complete flathead, and continues so through life. It 
must be noted, however, that this flattening of the head has 
something in it of aristocratical significancy, like the crippling 
of the feet among Chinese ladies of quality. At any rate it is 
a sign of freedom. No slave is permitted to bestow this envi- 
able deformity upon his child; all the slaves, therefore, are 
round -heads. 

With this worthy tribe of Chinooks the two partners passed 
a part of the day very agreeably. M'Dougal, who was some- 
what vain of his official rank, had given it to be understood 
that they were two chiefs of a great trading company, about to 
be established here, and the quick-sighted though one-eyed 
chief, who was somewhat practised in traffic with white men, 
immediately perceived the policy of cultivating the friendship 
of two such important visitors. He regaled them, therefore, to 



74 ASTOniA. 

the best of his ability, with abundance of salmon and wappa- 
too. The next morning, March 7th, they prepared to return to 
the vessel, according to promise. They had eleven miles of 
open bay to traverse ; the wind was fresh, the waves ran high. 
Comcomly remonstrated with them on the hazard to which 
they would be exposed. They were resolute, however, and 
launched their bo^t, while the wary chieftain followed at some 
short distance ^ii his canoe. Scarce had they rode a mile 
when a Vf a^^e broke over their boat and upset it. They were 
in iriiminent peril of drowning, especially Mr. M'Dougal, who 
could not swim. Comcomly, however, came bounding over 
the waves m his light canoe, and snatched them from a watery 
grave. 

They were taken on shore, and a fire made, at which they 
dried their clothes, after which Comcomly conducted them 
back to his village. Here everything was done that could be 
devised for their entertainment during three days that they 
were detained by bad weather. Comcomly made his people 
perform antics before them ; and his wives and daughters en- 
deavored, by all the soothing and endearing arts of women to 
find favor in their eyes. Some even painted their bodies with 
red clay, and anointed themselves with fish oil, to give addi- 
tional lustre to their charms. Mr. M'Dougal seems to have had a 
heart susceptible to the influence of the gentler sex. Whether 
or no it was first touched on this occasion we do not learn ; but 
it will be found, in the course of this work, that one of the 
daughters of the hospitable Comcomly eventually made a con- 
quest of the great eri of the American Fur Company. 

When the weather had moderated and the sea become tran- 
quil, the one-eyed chief of the Chinooks manned his state 
canoe, and conducted his guests in safety to the ship, where 
they were welcomed with joy, for apprehensions had been felt 
for their safety. Comcomly and his people were then enter- 
tained on board of the Tonquin, and liberally rewarded for 
their hospitality and services. They returned home highly 
satisfied, promising to remain faithful friends and aUies of the 
white men. 



ASTORIA. 75 



CHAPTER IX. 

From the report made by the two exploring partners, it 
was determined that Point George should be the site of the 
trading house. These gentlemen, it is true, were not per- 
fectly satisfied with the place, and were desirous of continu- 
ing their search; but Captain Thorn was impatient to land 
his cargo and continue his voyage, and protested against any 
more of what he termed " sporting excursions." 

Accordingly, on the 12th of April the launch was freighted 
with all things necessary for the purpose, and sixteen persons 
departed in her to commence the establishment, leaving the 
Tonquin to follow as soon as the harbor could be sounded. 

Crossing the wide mouth of the river, the party landed, and 
encamped at the bottom of a small bay within Point George. 
The situation chosen for the fortified post was on an elevation 
facing to the north, with the wide estuary, its sand-bars and 
tumultuous breakers spread out before it, and the promontory 
of Cape Disappointment, fifteen miles distant, closing the pros- 
pect to the left. The surrounding country was m. all the fresh- 
ness of spring; the trees were in the young leaf, the weather 
was superb, and everything looked delightful to men just 
emancipated from a long confinement on shipboard. The Ton- 
quin shortly afterward made her way through the intricate 
channel, and came to anchor in the little bay, and was saluted 
from the encampment with three volleys of musketry and 
three cheers. She returned the salute with three cheers and 
three guns. 

All hands now set to work cutting down trees, clearing away 
thickets, and marking out the place for the residence, store- 
house, and powder magazine, which were to be built of logs 
and covered with bark. Others landed the timbers intended 
for the frame of the coasting vessel, and proceeded to put 
them together, while others prepared a garden spot, and sowed 
the seeds of various vegetables. 

The next thought was to give a name to the embryo metro- 
pohs ; the one that naturally presented itself vas that of the 
projector and supporter of the whole enterprise. It was ac- 
cordingly named Astoria. 

The neighboring Indians nov/ swarmed about the place. 



Y6 ASTORIA. 

Some brought a few land-otter and sea-otter skins to barter, 
but in very scanty parcels ; the greater number came prying 
about to gratify their curiosity, for they are said to be imper- 
tinently inquisitive ; while not a few came with no other design 
than to pilfer ; the laws of meum and tuum being but slightly 
respected among them. Some of them beset the ship in their 
canoes among whom was the Chinook chief Comcomly and 
his liege subjects. These were well received by Mr. M'Dougal, 
who was delighted with an opportunity of entering upon his 
functions and acquiring importance in the eyes of his future 
neighbors. The confusion thus produced on board, and the 
derangement of the cargo caused by this petty trade, stirred 
the spleen of the captain, who had a sovereign contempt for 
the one-eyed chieftain and all his crew. He complained loudly 
of having his ship lumbered by a host of "Indian ragamuf- 
fins, " who had not a skin to dispose of, and at length put his 
positive interdict upon all trafficking on board. Upon this 
Mr. M'Dougal was fain to land, and establish his quarters at 
the encampment, where he could exercise his rights and enjoy 
his dignities without control. 

The feud, however, between those rival powers still con- 
tinued, but was chiefly carried on by letter. Day after day 
and week after week elapsed, yet the storehouses requisite for 
the reception of the cargo were not completed, and the ship 
was detained in port ; while the captain was teased by frequent 
requisitions for various articles for the use of the establish- 
ment, or the trade with the natives. An angry correspondence 
took place, in which he complained bitterly of the time wasted 
in "smoking and sporting parties," as he termed the recon- 
noitering expeditions, and in clearing and preparing meadow 
ground and turnip patches instead of dispatching his ship. 
At length all these jarring matters were adjusted, if not to tiie 
satisfaction, at least to the acquiescence of all parties. The 
I part of the cargo destined for the use of Astoria was landed, 
and the ship left free to proceed on her voyage. 

As the Tonquin was to coast to the north, to trade for pel- 
tries at the different harbors, and to touch at Astoria on her 
return in the autumn, it was unanimously detei'mined that 
Mr. M'Kay should go in her as supercargo, taking with him 
Mr. Lewis as ship's clerk. On the first of June the ship got 
under way, and dropped down to Baker's Bay, where she was 
detained for a few days by a head wind ; but early in the 
morning of the fiftli stood out to sea with a fine breeze and 



ASTOEIA. 77 

swelling canvas, and swept off gayly on her fatal voyage, from 
which she was never to return ! 

On reviewing the conduct of Captain Thorn, and examining 
his peevish and somewhat whimsical correspondence, the im- 
pression left upon our mind is upon the whole decidedly in his 
favor. While we smile a.t the simphcity of his heart and the 
narrowness of liis views, which made him regard everything 
out of the direct path of his daily duty, and the rigid exigen- 
cies of the service, as trivial and impertinent, which inspired 
him with contempt for the swelhng vanity of some of his coad- 
jutors, and the hterary exercises and curious researches of 
others, we cannot but applaud that strict and conscientious 
devotion to the interests of his employer, and to what he con- 
sidered the true objects of the enterprise in which he was 
engaged. He certainly was to blame occasionally for the 
asperity of his manners and the arbitrary nature of his meas- 
ures, yet much that is exceptionable in this part of his con- 
duct may be traced to rigid notions of duty, acquired in that 
tyrannical school, a ship of war, and to the construction given 
by his companions to the orders of Mr. Astor, so httle in con- 
formity with his own. His mind, too, appears to have become 
almost diseased by the suspicions he had formed as to the loy- 
alty of his associates and the nature of their ultimate designs ; 
yet on this point there were circumstances to, in some meas- 
ure, justify him. The relations between the United States 
and Great Britain were at that time in a critical state ; in fact, 
the two countries were on the eve of a war. Several of the 
partners were British subjects, and might be ready to desert 
the flag under which they acted, should a war take place. 
Their application to the British minister at New York shows 
the dubious feeling with which they had embarked in the 
present enterprise. They had been in the employ of the 
Northwest Company, and might be disposed to rally again 
under that association, should events threaten the prosperity 
of this embryo establishment of Mr. Astor. Besides, we have 
the fact, averred to us by one of the partners, that some of 
them, who were young and heedless, took a mischievous and 
unwarrantable pleasure in playing uj^on the jealous temper of 
the captain, and affecting mysterious consultations and siaister 
movements. 

These circumstances are cited in palhation of the doubts and 
surmises of Captain Thorn, which might otherwise appear 
etrange and unreasonable. That most of the partners were 



78 ASTORIA. 

perfectly upright and faithful in the discharge of the trust 
reposed in them we are fully satisfied ; still the honest captain 
was not invariably wrong in liis suspicions ; and that he 
formed a pretty just opinion of the integrity of that aspiring 
personage, Mr. M'Dougal, will be substantially proved in the 
sequel. 



CHAPTER X. 



While the Astorians were busily occupied in completing 
their factory and fort, a report was brought to them by an 
Indian from the upper part of the river, that a party of thirty 
white men had appeared on the banks of the Columbia, and 
were actually building houses at the second rapids. This in- 
formation caused much disquiet. We have already mentioned 
that the Northwest Company had estabhshed posts to the west 
of the Rocky Mountains, in a district called by them New 
Caledonia, which extended from lat. 52° to 55° north, being 
within the British territories. It was now apprehended that 
they were advancing within the American Hmits, and were 
endeavoring to seize upon the upper part of the river and fore- 
stall the American Fur Company in the surrounding trade ; in 
which case bloody feuds might be anticipated, such as had 
prevailed between the rival fur companies in former days. 

A reconnoitring party was sent up the river to ascertain the 
truth of the report. They ascended to the foot of the first 
rapid, about two hundred miles, but could hear nothing of any 
white men being in the neighborhood. 

Not long after their return, however, further accounts were 
received, by two wandering Indians, which established the 
fact that the Northwest Company had actually erected a trad- 
ing house on the Spokan River, which falls into the north 
branch of the Columbia. 

What rendered this intelligence the more disquieting was 
the inability of the Astorians, in their present reduced state as 
to numbers, and the exigencies of their new establishment, to 
furnish detachments to penetrate the country in different di- 
rections, and fix the posts necessary to secure the interior 
trade. 

It was resolved, however, at any rate, to advance a counter 



ASTORIA. 79 

check to this post on the Spokan, and one of the partners, Mr. 
David Stuart, prepared to set out for the purpose with eight 
men and a small assortment of goods. He was to be guided by 
the two Indians, who knew the country, and promised to take 
him to a place not far from the Spokan River, and in a neigh- 
borhood abounding with beaver. Here he was to establish 
himself and to remain for a time, provided he found the situa- 
tion advantageous and the natives friendly. 

On the 15th of July, when Mr. Stuart was nearly ready to 
embark, a canoe made its appearance, standing for the narbor, 
and manned by nine white men. Much speculation took place 
who these strangers could be, for it was too soon to expect their 
own people, under Mr. Himt, who were to cross the continent. 
As the canoe drew near, the British standard was distinguished ; 
on coming to land, one of the crew stepped on shore, and an- 
nounced himself as Mr. David Thompson, astronomer, and 
partner of the Northwest Company. According to his ac- 
count, he had set out in the preceding year with a tolerably 
strong party, and a supply of Indian goods, to cross the Eocky 
Mountains. A part of his people, however, had deserted him 
on the eastern side, and returned with the goods to the nearest 
northwest post. He had persisted in ci^ossing the mountains 
with eight men, who remained true to him. They had trav- 
ersed the higher regions, and ventured near the source of the 
Columbia, where, in the spring, they had constructed a cedar 
canoe, the same in which they had reached Astoria. 

This, in fact, was the party dispatched by the Northwest 
Company to anticipate Mr. Astor in his intention of effecting a 
settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River. It appears, 
from information subsequently derived from other sources, 
that Mr. Thompson had pushed on liis course with great haste, 
calhng at all the Indian villages in his march, presenting them 
with British flags, and even planting them at the forks of the 
rivers, proclaiming formally that he took possession of the 
country in the name of the King of Great Britain for the 
Northwest Company. As his original plan was defeated by 
the desertion of his people, it is probable that he descended the 
river simply to reconnoitre, and ascertain whether an Ameri- 
can settlement had been commenced. 

Mr. Thompson was, no doubt, the first white man who de- 
scended the northern branch of the Columbia from so near its 
source. Lewis and Clarke struck the main body of the river 
at the forks, about four hundred miles from its mouth. They 



80 ASTORIA. 

entered it from Lewis River, its southern branch, and thence 
descended. 

Though Mr, Thompson could be considered as httle better 
than a spy in the camp, he was received with great cordiahty 
by Mr. M'Dougal, who had a lurking feeling of companionship 
and good- will for all of the Northwest Company. He invited 
him to head-quarters, where he and his people were hospitably 
entertained. Nay, further; being somewhat in extremity, he 
was furnished by Mr. M'Dougal with goods and provisions for 
his journey back across the mountains, much against the 
wishes of Mr. David Stuart, who did not think the object of 
his visit entitled him to any favor. 

On the 23d of July Mr. Stuart set out upon his expedition to 
the interior. His party consisted of four of the clerks, Messrs. 
Fillet, Ross, M'Lennon, and Montigny, two Canadian voya- 
geurs, and two natives of the Sandwich Islands. They had 
three canoes well laden with provisions, and with goods and 
necessaries for a trading: establishment. 

Mr. Thompson and his party set out in company with them, 
it being his intention to proceed direct to Montreal. The part- 
ners at Astoria forwarded by him a short letter to Mr. Astor 
informing him of their safe arrival at the moutli of the Colum- 
bia, and that they had not yet heard of Mr. Hunt. The little 
squadron of canoes set sail with a favorable breeze, and soon 
passed Tongue Point, a long, high, and rocky promontory, 
covered with trees, and stretclung far into the river. OpDosite 
to this, on the northern shore, is a deep bay, where tlie ColiiPi- 
bia anchored at the time of the discovery, and which is st?U 
called Gray's Bay, from the name of her commander. 

From hence the general course of the river for about seventy 
miles was nearly southeast, varying in breadth according to 
its bays and indentations, and navigable for vessels of three 
hundred tons. The shores were in some places high and rock}", 
with low, marshy islands at their feet, subject to inundation, 
and covered with willows, poplars, and other trees that love 
an alluvial soil. Sometimes the mountnins receded, and gave 
place to beautiful plains and noble forests. While the river 
margin was richly fringed with trees of deciduous foliage, the 
rough uplands were crowned by majestic pines, and firs of 
gigantic size, some towering to the height of between two and 
three hundred feet, with proportionate circumference. Out of 
these the Indians wrought their great canoes and pirogues. 

At one part of the river, they passed, on the northern side. 



ASTORIA. 81 

an isolated rock, about one hundred and fifty feet high, rising 
from a low, marshy soil, and totally disconnected with the ad- 
jacent mountains. This was held in great reverence by the 
neighboring Indians, being one of their princij3al places of 
sepulture. The same provident care for the deceased that pre- 
vails among the hunting tribes of the prairies is observable 
among the piscatory tribes of the rivers and sea-coast. Among 
the former the favorite horse of the hunter is buried with him 
in the same funereal mound, and his bow and arrows a,re laid 
by his side, that he may be perfectly equipped for the ' ' happy 
himting grounds" of the land of spirits. Among the latter, 
the Indian is wrapped in his mantle of skins, laid in his canoe, 
■vvith his paddle, his fishmg spear, and other implements beside 
him, and placed aloft on some rock or other eminence over- 
looking the river, or bay, or lake, that he has frequented. He 
is thus fitted out to launch away upon those placid streams 
and sunny lakes, stocked with all kinds of fish and waterfowl, 
which are prepared in the next world for those who have ac- 
quitted themselves as good sons, good fathers, good husbands, 
and, above all, good fishermen, during their mortal sojourn. 

The isolated rock in question presented a spectacle of the 
kind, numerous dead bodies being deposited in canoes on its 
summit; while on poles around were troi^hies, or, rather, 
funereal offerings of trinkets, garments, baskets of roots, and 
other articles for the use of the deceased. A reverential feel- 
ing protects these sacred spots from robbery or insult. The 
friends of the deceased, especially the women, repair here at 
sunrise and sunset for some time after his death, singing his 
funeral dirge, and uttering loud wailings and lamentations. 

From the number of dead bodies in canoes observed upon 
this rock by the first explorers of the river, it received the 
name of Mount Coffin, which it continues to bear. 

Beyond this rock they passed the mouth of a river on the 
right bank of the Columbia, which appeared to take its rise in 
a distant moimtain covered with snow. The Indian name of 
this river was the Cov/leskee. Some miles further on they 
came to the great Columbian valley, so called by Lewis and 
Clarke. It is sixty miles in width, and extends far to the 
south-southeast between parallel ridges of mountains, which 
bound it on the east and west. Through the centre of this 
valley flowed a large and beautiful stream called the Walla- 
mot,"^ wliicli came wandering for several hundred miles, 

* Pronounced WaiMmot, th? accent bolng up;n the second ;-:Tilable. 



82 ASTORIA. 

through a yet unexplored wilderness. The sheltered situation 
of tliis immense valley had an obvious effect upon the climate. 
It was a region of great beauty and luxuriance, with lakes and 
pools, and green meadows shaded by noble groves. Various 
tribes were said to reside in this valley and along the banks 
of the Wallamot. 

About eight miles above the mouth of the Wallamot the lit' 
tic squadron arrived at Vancouver's Point, so called in honor 
of that celebrated voyager by his lieutenant (Broughton) when 
he explored the river. This point is said to present one of the 
m.ost beautiful scenes on the Columbia — a lovely meadow, with 
a silver sheet of limpid water in the centre, enlivened by wild- 
fowl, a range of hills crowned by forests, while the prospect is 
closed by Mount Hood, a magnificent mountain rising into a 
lofty peak, and covered with snow; the ultimate landmark of 
the first explorers of the river. 

Point Vancouver is about one hundred miles from Astoria. 
Here the reflux of the tide ceases to be perceptible. To this 
place vessels of two and three hundred tons burden may as- 
cend. The party under the command of Mr. Stuart had been 
three or four days in reaching it, though we have forborne to 
notice their daily progress and nightly encampments. 

From Point Vancouver the river turned toward the north- 
east, and became more contracted and rapid, with occasional 
islands and frequent sand-banks. These islands are furnished 
with a number of ponds, and at certain seasons abound with 
swan, geeec, brandts, cranes, gulls, plover, and other wild- 
fovfl. The shores, too, are low, and closely wqoded, and 
covered with such an undergrowth of vines and rushes as to 
be almost impassable. 

About thirty miles above Point Vancouver the mountains 
again approach on both sides of the river, which is bordered 
by stupendous precipices, covered with the fir and the white 
cedar, and enlivened occasionally by beautiful cascades leap- 
ing from a gi'eat height, and sending up wreaths of vapor. 
One of these precipices, or cliffs, is curiously worn by time and 
weather so as to have the appearance of a ruined fortress, with 
towers and battlements beetling high above the river ; while 
two sma,ll cascades, one hundred and fifty feet in height, pitch 
down from the fissures of the rocks. 

The turbulence and rapidity of the current continually 
augmenting as they advanced, gave the voyagers intimation 
that they were approaching tlie great obstructions of the river, 



ASTORIA. 83 

and at length they arrived at Strawberry Island, so called by 
Lewis and Clarke, which lies at the foot of the first rapid. As 
this part of the Columbia will be repeatedly mentioned m the 
course of this work, being the scene of some of its incidents, 
we shall give a general description of it in this place. 

The falls or rapids of the Columbia are situated about one 
liundred and eighty miles abov^e the mouth of the river. The 
first is a perpendicular cascade of twenty feet, after which 
there is a swift descent for a mile, between islands of hard 
black rock, to another pitch of eight feet divided by two rocks. 
About tv/o and a half miles below this the river expands into a 
wide basin, seemingly dammed up by a perpendicular ridge of 
bla.ck rock. A current, however, sets diagonally to the left of 
this rocky barrier, where there is a chasm forty-five yards in 
width. Through this the whole body of the river roars along, 
swelling and whirling and boiling for some distance in the 
wildest confusion. Through this tremendous channel, the in- 
trepid explorers of the river, Lewis and Clarke, passed safely 
in their boats ; the danger being, not from the rocks, but from 
the great surges and whirlpools. 

At the distance of a mile and a half from the foot of this 
narrow channel is a rapid, formed by two rocky islands ; and 
two miles beyond is a second great fall, over a ledge of rocks 
twenty feet high, extending nearly from shore to shore. The 
river is again compressed into a channel from fifty to a hun- 
dred feet wide, worn through a rough bed of hard black rock, 
along which it boils and roars with great fury for the distance 
of three miles. This is called " The Long Narrows." 

Here is the great fishing place of the Columbia. In the spring 
of the year, when the water is high, the salmon ascend the river 
in incredible numbers. As they pass through this narrow 
•strait, the Indians, standing on the rocks, or on the end of 
wooden stages projecting from the banks, scoop them up with 
small nets distended on hoops and attached to long handles, 
and cast them on the shore. 

They are then cured and packed in a peculiar manner. 
After having been opened and disembowelled, they are ex- 
i:>osed to the sun on scaffolds erected on the river banks. 
When sufficiently dry, they are pounded fine between two 
ntones, pressed into the smallest compass, and packed in 
baskets or bales of grass matting, about two feet long and one 
in di?.meter, lined with the cured skin of a salmon. The top 
is likewise covered v/ith fish-skins, secured by cords passing 



g4 ASTORIA. 

through holes in the edge of the basket. Packages are then 
made, each containing twelve of tbese bales, seven at bottom, 
five at top, pressed close to each other, with the corded side 
upward, wrapped in mats and corded. These are placed in 
dry situations, and again covered with matting. Each of 
these packages contains from ninety to a hundred pounds of 
dried fish, which in this state will keep sound for several 
years.* 

We have given this process at some length, as furnished by 
the first explorers, because it marks a practised ingenuity in 
preparing articles of traffic for a market, seldom seen among 
our aboriginals. For hke reasons we would make especial 
mention of the village of Wish-ram, at the head of the Long 
Narrows, as being a solitary instance of an aboriginal trading 
mart, or emporium. Here the salmon caught in the neighbor- 
ing rapids were " warehoused," to await customers. Hither 
the tribes from the mouth of the Columbia repaired with the 
fish of the sea-coast, the roots, berries, and especially the wap» 
patoo, gathered in the lower parts of the river, together with 
goods and trinkets obtained from the ships which casually visit 
the coast. Hither also the tribes from the Rocky Mountains 
brought down horses, bear-grass, quamash, and other com- 
modities of tlie interior. The merchant fishermen at the falls 
acted as middlemen or factors, and passed the objects of 
traffic, as it were, cross-handed: trading away part of the 
wares received from the mountain tribes to those of the river 
and the plains, and vice versa: their packages of pounded 
salmon entered largely into the system of barter, and being 
carried off in opposite directions found their way to the savaOT 
hunting camps far in the iiiterior, and to the casual white 
traders who touched upon the coast. 

We have already noticed certain contrarieties of character 
between the Indian tribes, produced by their diet and mode of 
/ifo ; and nowhere are they more apparent than about the falls 
©f the Columbia,. The Indians of this great fishing mart are 
represented by the earliest explorers as sleeker and fatter, but 
less hardy and active, than the tribes of the mountains and 
the prairies, who live by hunting, or of the upper parts of the 
river, where fish is scanty and the inhabitants must eke out 
^heir subsistence by digging roots or chasing the deer. In- 
deed, whenever an Indian of the upper country is too lazy to 



* Lewis ani?. Clarke, vol. ii. p. 82. 



ASTORTA. g5 

hunt, yet is fond of good living, he repairs to the falls, to livo 
in abundance without labor. 

"By such worthless dogs as these," says an honest trader in 
his journal, which now lies before us, "by such worthle&a 
dcgs as these are these noted fishing places peopled, which, 
hke our great cities, may with propriety be called the head- 
quarters of vitiated principles." 

The habits of trade and the avidity of gain have their cor- 
rupting effects even in the wilderness, as may be instanced in 
the members of this aboriginal emporium; for the same 
journahst denounces them as "saucy, impudent rascals, who 
will steal when they can, and pillage whenever a weak party 
falls in their power. " 

That he does not belie them will be evidenced hereafter, when 
we have occasion again to touch at Wish-ram and navigate 
the rapids. In the present instance the travellers effected the 
laborious ascent of tliis part of the river, with all its various 
portages, without molestation, and once more launched away 
in smooth water above the high falls. 

The two parties continued together mthout material impedi- 
ment, for three or four hundred miles further up the Colum- 
bia; Mr. Thompson appearing to take great interest in the 
success of Mr. Stuart, and pointing out places favorable, as 
he said, to the establishment of his contemplated trading post. 

Mr. Stuart who distrusted his sincerity, at length pretended 
to adopt his advice, and, taking leave of him, remained as if 
to establish himself, while the other proceeded on his course 
toward the mountains. No sooner, however, had he fairly de- 
parted than Mr. Stuart again pushed forward, under guidance 
of the two Indians, nor did he stop until he had arrived within 
about} one hundred and forty miles of the Spokan River, which 
he considered near enough to keep the rival estabhshment in 
check. 

The place which he pitched upon for his trading post was a 
point of land about three miles in length and two in breadth, 
formed by the junction of the Oakinagan with the Columbia. 
The former is a river which has its source in a considerable 
lake about one hundred and fifty miles west of the point of 
junction. The two rivers, about the place of their confluence, 
are bordered by immense prairies covered with herbage but 
destitute of trees. The point itself was ornamented with wild 
flowers of every hue, in which innumerable humming-birds 
were "banqueting nearly the live-long day." 



QQ ASTORIA. 

The situation of this point appeared to be well adapted fo* 
a trading post. The chmate was salubrious, the soil fertile, 
the rivers well stocked with fish, the natives peaceable and 
friendly. There were easy communications with the interior 
by the upper waters of the Columbia and the lateral stream 
of the Oakinagan, while the downward current of the Colum- 
bia furnished a highway to Astoria. 

Availing himself, therefore, of the driftwood which had 
collected in quantities in the neighboring bends of the river, 
Mr. Stuart and his men set to work to erect a house, which in 
a little while was sufficiently completed for their residence ; 
and thus was established the first interior post of the com- 
pany. We will now return to notice the progress of affairs at 
the mouth of the Columbia. 



CHAPTER XI. 



The sailing of the Tonquin, and the departure of Mr. David 
Stuart and his detachment, had produced a striking effect on 
affairs at Astoria. The natives who had swarmed about the 
place began immediately to drop off, until at length not an 
Indian was to be seen. This, at first, was attributed to the 
want of peltries with which to trade ; but in a little while the 
mystery was explained in a more alarming manner. A con- 
spiracy was said to be on foot among the neighboring tribes 
to make a combined attack upon the white men, now that 
they were so reduced in number. For this purpose there had 
been a gathering of warriors in a neighboring bay, under pre- 
text of fishing for sturgeon ; and fieets of canoes were expected 
to join them from the north and south. Even Comcomly, the 
one-eyed chief, notwithstanding his professed friendship for 
Mr. M'Dougal, was strongly suspected of being concerned in 
this general combination. 

Alarmed at rimiors of this impending danger, the Astorians 
suspended their regular labor, and set to work, with all haste, 
to throw up temporary works for refuge and defence. In the 
course of a few days they surrounded their dwelling-house and 
magazines with a picket fence ninety feet square, flanked by 
two bastions, on which were mounted four four-pounders. 
Every day they exercised themselves in the use of their wea 



ASTORIA. 87 

pons, so as to qualify themselves for military duty, and at 
night ensconced themselves in their fortress and posted senti- 
nels, to guard against surprise. In this way they hoped, even 
in case of attack, to be able to hold out until the arrival of the 
party to be conducted by Mr. Hunt across the Rocky Moun- 
tains, or until the return of the Tonquin. The latter depen- 
dence, however, was doomed soon to be destroyed. Early in 
August a wandering band of savages from the Strait of Juan 
de Fuca made their appearance at the mouth of the Columbia, 
where they came to fish for sturgeon. They brought disas- 
trous accounts of the Tonquin, which were at first treated as 
mere fables, but which were too sadly confirmed by a different 
tribe that arrived a few days subsequently. We shall relate 
the circumstances oi this melancholy affair as correctly as the 
casual discrepancies in the statements that have reached us 
will permit. 

We have already stated that the Tonquin set sail from the 
mouth of the river on the fifth of June. The whole number of 
persons on board amounted to twenty-three. In one of the 
outer bays they picked up, from a fishing canoe, an Indian 
named Lamazee, who had already made two voyages along 
the coast, and knew something of the language of the various 
tribes. He agreed to accompany them as interpreter. 

Steering to the north, Captain Thorn arrived in a few days 
ut Vancouver's Island, and anchored in the harbor of Newee- 
tee, very much against the advice of his Indian interpreter, 
who warned him against the perfidious character of the na- 
tives of this part of the coast. Numbers of canoes soon came 
off, bringing sea-otter skins to sell. It was too late in the day 
to commence a traffic, but Mr. M'Kay, accompanied by a few 
of the men, went on shore to a large viUage to visit Y/icana- 
nish, the chief of the surrounding territory, six of the natives 
remaining on board as hostages. He was received with great 
professions of friendship, entertained hospitably, and a couch 
of sea-otter skins was prepared for him in the dwelling of the 
chieftain, where he was prevailed upon to pass the night. 

In the morning before Mr. M'Eay had returned to the ship, 
great numbers of the natives came off in their canoes to trade, 
headed by two sons of Wicananish. As they brought abun- 
dance of sea-otter skins, and there was every appearance of a 
brisk trade. Captain Thorn did not wait for the return of Mr. 
M'Kay, but spread his wares upon deck, making a tempting 
display of blankets, cloths, knives, beads, and fish-hooks, ex- 



88 



ASTORIA. 



pecting a prompt and profitable sale. The Indians, however, 
were not so eager and simple as he had supposed, having 
learned the art of bargaining and the value of merchandise 
from the casual traders along the coast. They were guided, 
too, by a shrewd old chief named Nookamis, who had grown 
gray in traffic with New England skippers, and prided himself 
upon his acuteness. His opinion seemed to regulate the mar- 
ket. When Captain Thorn made what he considered a liberal 
oilier for an otter-skin, the wily old Indian treated it with 
scorn, and asked more than double. His comrades all took 
their cue from him, and not an otter-skin was to be had at a 
reasonable rate. 

The old fellow, however, overshot his mark, and mistook the 
character of the man he was treating with. Thorn was a 
plain, straightforward sailor, who never had two ,minds nor 
two prices in his dealings, was deficient in patience and pli- 
ancy, and totally wanting in the chicanery of traffic. He had 
a vast deal of stern but honest pride in his nature, and, more- 
over, held the whole savage race in sovereign contempt. 
Abandoning all further attempts, therefore, to bargain with his 
shuffling customers, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and 
paced up and down the deck in sullen silence. The cunning 
old Indian followed him to and fro, holding out a sea-otter 
skin to him at every turn, and pestering him to trade. Find- 
ing other means unavailing, he suddenly changed his tone, 
and began to jeer and banter him upon the mean prices he 
offered. This was too much for the patience of the captain, 
who was never remarkable for relishing a joke, especially 
when at his own expense. Turning suddenly upon his per- 
secutor, he snatched the proffered otter-skin from his hands, 
rubbed it in his face, and dismissed him over the side of the 
ship with no very complimentary application to accelerate his 
exit. He then kicked the peltries to the right and left about 
the deck, and broke up the market in the most ignominious 
manner. Old Nookamis made for shore in a furious passion, 
in which he was joined by Sliewish, one of the sons of Wicana- 
nish, who went off breathing vengeance, and the ship was 
soon abandoned by the natives. 

When Mr. M'Kay returned on board, the interpreter related 
what had passed, and begged him to prevail upon the captain 
to make sail, as, from his knowledge of the temper and pride 
of the people of the place, he was sure they would resent the 
indignity offered to one of their chiefs. Mr. M'Kay, who him- 



ASTOTITA, g() 

self possessed some experience of Indian character, went to 
the captain, who was still pacing the deck in moody humor, 
represented the danger to which his hasty act had exposed the 
vessel, and urged him to weigh anchor. The captain made 
light of his counsels, and pointed to his cannon and firearms as 
a suflScient safeguard against naked savages. Further remon- 
strances only provoked taunting replies and sharp altercations. 
The day passed away without any signs of hostihtj^, and at 
night the captain retired as usual to his cabin, taking no more 
than the usual precautions. 

On the following morning, at daybreak, while the captain 
and Mr. M'Kay were yet asleep, a canoe came alongside, in 
wliich were twenty Indians, commanded by young Shewish. 
They were unarmed, their aspect and demeanor friendly, and 
they held up otter-skins, and made signs indicative of a wish 
to trade. The caution enjoined by Mr. Astor, in respect to the 
admission of Indians on board of the ship had been neglected 
for some time past, and the officer of the Avatch, perceiving 
those in the canoe to be without weapons, and having re- 
ceived no orders to the contrary, readily permitted them to 
mount the deck. Another canoe soon succeeded, the crew of 
which was likewise admitted. In a little while other canoes 
came off, and Indians were soon clambering uito the vessel on 
all sides. 

The officer of the watch now felt alarmed, and called to Cap- 
tain Thorn and Mr. M'Kay. By the time they came on deck, 
it was thronged with Indians. The interpreter noticed to Mr. 
M'Kay that many of the natives wore short mantles of skins, 
and intimated a suspicion that they were secretly armed. Mr. 
M'Kay urged the captain to clear the ship and get under way. 
He again made hght of the advice, but the augmented swarm 
of canoes about the ship, and the numbers still putting off from 
shore, at length awakened his distrust, and he ordered some of 
the crew to weigh anchor, while some were sent aloft to make 
sail. 

The Indians now offered to trade with the captain on his own 
terms, prompted, apparently, by the approaching departure of 
the ship. Accordingly, a hurried trade was commenced. The 
main articles sought by the savages in barter, were knives ; as 
fast as some were supphed they moved off, and others suc- 
ceeded. By degrees they were thus distributed about the deck, 
and all with weapons. 

The anchor was now nearly up, the sails were loose, and the 



90 ASTORIA. 

captain, in a loud and peremptory tone, ordered the ship to be 
cleared. In an instant a signal yell was given : it was echoed 
on every side, knives and war-clubs v/ere brandished in every 
direction, and the savages rushed upon their marked victims. 

The first that fell was Mr. Lewis, the ship's clerk. He was 
leaning, w4th folded arms, over a bale of blankets, engaged in 
bare:aining, when he received a deadly stab in the back, and 
fell down the companion-way. 

Mr. M'Kay, who was seated on the taffrail, sprang on his 
feet, but was instantly knocked down with a war-club and 
flung backward into the sea, where he was dispatched by tho 
women in the canoes. 

In the mean time Captain Thorn made desperate fight 
against fearful odds. He was a powerful as weU as a resolute 
man, but he had come upon deck without weapons. Shewish, 
the yoimg chief, singled liim out as his peculiar prey, and 
rushed upon him at the first outbreak. The captain had barely 
time to draw a clasp-knife, with one blow of which he laid the 
young savage dead at his feet. Several of the stoutest follow- 
ers of Shewish now set upon him. He defended himself vigor- 
ously, dealing cripphng blows to right and left, and strewing 
the quarter-deck with the slain and wounded. His object was 
to fight his way to the cabin, where there were firearms ; but 
he was hemmed in with foes, covered with wounds, and faint 
with loss of blood. For an instant he leaned upon the tiller 
wheel, when a blow from behind, with a war-club, felled him 
to the deck, where he was dispatched with knives and thrown 
overboard. 

While this was transacting upon the quarter-deck, a chance- 
medley fight was going on throughout the ship. The crew 
fought desperately with knives, handspikes, and whatever 
weapon they could seize upon in the moment of surprise. 
They were soon, however, overpowered by numbers, and 
mercil3ssly butchered. 

As to the seven who had been sent aloft to make sail, they 
contemplated with horror the carnage that was going on below. 
Being destitute of weapons, they let themselves down by the 
running rigging, in hopes of getting between decks. One fell 
in the attempt, and was instantly dispatched ; another received 
a death-blow in the back as he was descending; a third, 
Stephen Weekes, the armorer, was mortally wounded as he 
was getting down the hatchway. 
The remaining four made good their retreat into the cabii? 



ASTORIA. 91 

where they found Mr. Lewis, still ahve, though martally 
wounded. Barricading the cabin door, they broke holes 
through the companion-way, and, with the muskets and am- 
munition which were at hand, opened a brisk fire that soon 
cleared the deck, 

Thus far the India^n interpreter, from whom these particulars 
are derived, had been an eye-witness of the deadly conflict. 
He had taken no part in it, and had been spared by the natives 
as being of their race. In the confusion of the moment he took 
refuge with the rest, in the canoes. The survivors of the crew 
now saUied forth, and discharged some of the deck guns, which 
did great execution among the canoes, and drove all the savages 
to shore. 

For the remainder of the day no one ventured to put off to 
the ship, deterred by the effects of the firearms. The night 
passed away without any further attempt on the part of the 
natives. When the day dawned, the Tonquin still lay at 
anchor in the bay, her sails all loose and flapping in the wind, 
and no one apparently on board of her. After a time, some of 
the canoes ventured forth to reconnoitre, taking with them the 
interpreter. They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a 
distance, but growing more and more emboldened at seeing 
her quiet and lifeless. One man at length made his appearance 
on the deck, and was recognized by the interpreter as Mr. 
Lewis. He made friendly signs, and invited them on board. 
It was long before they ventured to comply. Those who 
mounted the deck met with no opposition ; no one was to be 
seen on board ; for Mr. Lewis, after inviting them, had disap- 
peared. Other canoes now pressed forward to board the prize; 
the decks were soon crowded, and the sides covered with clam- 
bering savages, all intent on plunder. In the midst of their 
eagerness and exultation, the ship blew up with a tremendous 
explosion. Arms, legs, and mutilated bodies were blown into 
the air, and dreadful havoc was made in the surrounding ca- 
noes. The interpreter was in the main-chains at the time of 
the explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where 
he succeeded in getting into one of the canoes. According to 
his statement, the bay presented an awful spectacle after the 
catastrophe. The ship had disappeared, but the bay was 
covered with fragments of the wreck, with shattered canoes, 
and Indians swimming for their lives, or struggling in the ago- 
nies of death; while those who had escaped the danger re- 
mained aghast and stupefied, or made with frantic panic for 



92 A8T02UA. 

the shore. Upward of a hundred savages were destroyed by 
the explosion, many more were shockingly mutilated, and for 
days afterward the limbs and bodies of the slain were thrown 
upon the beach. 

The inhabitants of Neweetee were overwhelmed with con- 
sternation at this astounding calamity, which had burst upon 
them in the very moment of triumph. The warriors sat muto 
and mournful, wliile the women filled the air with loud 
lamentations. Their weeping and wailing, however, was sud- 
denly changed into yells of fury at the sight of four unfortu- 
nate white men, brought captive into the village. They had 
been driven on shore in one of the ship's boats, and taken at 
some distance along the coast. 

The interpreter was permitted to converse with them. They 
proved to be the four brave fellows who had made such despe- 
rate defence from the cabin. The interpreter gathered from 
them some of the particulars already related. They told him 
further, that, after they had beaten off the enemy, and cleared 
the ship, Lewis advised that they should shp the cable and en- 
deavor to get to sea. They declined to take his advice, alleg- 
ing that the wind set too strongly into the bay, and would 
drive them on shore. They resolved, as soon as it was dark, 
to put off quietly in the ship's boat, which they would be able 
to do unperceived, and to coast along back to Astoria. They 
put their resolution into effect ; but Lewis refused to accompany 
them, being disabled by his wound, hopeless of escape, and de- 
termined on a terrible revenge. On the voyage out, he had re- 
peatedly expressed a presentiment that he should die by his 
own hands ; thinking it highly probable that he should be en- 
gaged in some contest with the natives, and being resolved, m 
case of extremity, to commit suicide rather than be made a 
prisoner. He now declared his intention to remain on board 
of the ship until daylight, to decoy as many of the savages on 
board as possible, then to set fire to the powder magazine, and 
terminate his life by a signal act of vengeance. How well he 
succeeded has been shown. His companions bade him a mel- 
ancholy adieu, and set off on their precarious expedition. 
They strove with might and main to get out of the bay, but 
found it impossible to weather a point of land, and were at 
length compelled to take shelter in a small cove, where they 
hoped to remain concealed until the wind should be more 
favorable. Exhausted by fatigue and watching, they fell into 
a sound sleep, and in that state were surprised by the savages. 



ASTORIA. 93 

Better had it been for those unfortunate men had they remained 
with Lewis, and shared his heroic death : as it was, they per- 
ished in a more painful and protracted manner, being sacrificed 
by the natives to the manes of their friends with all the linger- 
ing tortures of savage cruelty. Some time after their death, 
the interpreter, who had remained a kind of prisoner at large, 
effected his escape, and brought the tragical tidings to Astoria, 

Such is the melancholy story of the Tonquin, and such was 
the fate of her brave but headstrong commander, and her ad- 
venturous crew. It is a catastrophe that shows the impor 
tance, in all enterprises of moment, to keep in mind the general 
instructions of the sagacious heads which devise them. Mr. 
Astor was well aware of the perils to which ships were exposed 
on this coast from quarrels with the natives, and from perfidi- 
ous attempts of the latter to surprise and capture them in un- 
guarded moments. He had repeatedly enjoined it upon Cap- 
tain Thorn, in conversation, and at parting, in his letter of 
instructions, to be courteous and kind in his dealings with the 
savages, but by no means to confide in their apparent friend- 
ship, nor to admit mor^e than a few on board of his ship at a 
time. 

Had the deportment of Captain Thorn been properly regu- 
lated, the insult so wounding to savage pride would never 
have been given. Had he enforced the rule to admit but a 
few at a time, the savages would not have been able to get the 
mastery. He was too irritable, however, to practise the nec- 
essary self-command, and, having been nurtured in a proud 
contempt of danger, thought it beneath hun to manifest any 
fear of a crew of unarmed savages. 

With all his faults and foibles, we cannot but speak of him 
with esteem, and deplore his untimely fate ; for we remember 
him well in early life, as a companion in pleasant scenes and 
joyous hours. When on shore, among his friends, he was a 
frank, manly, sound-hearted sailor. On board ship he evi- 
dently assumed the hardness of deportment and sternness 
of demeanor which many deem essential to naval service. 
Throughout the whole of the expedition, however, he showed 
himself loyal, single-minded, straightforward, and fearless; 
and if the fate of his vessel may be charged to his harshness 
and imprudence, we should recollect that he paid for his eri-or 
with his life. 

The loss of the Tonquin was a grievous blow to the infant 
e-stablishment of Astoria, and one that threatened to bring 



94 ASTORIA. 

after it a train of disasters. The intelligence of it did not reach 
Mr. Astor until many months afterward. He felt it in all its 
force, and was aware that it must cripple, if not entirely de- 
feat, the great scheme of his ambition. In his letters, written 
at the time, he speaks of it as "a calamity, the length of which 
he could not foresee." He indulged, however, in no weak and 
vain lamentation, but sought to devise a prompt and efficient 
remedy. The very same evening he appeared at the theatre 
Avith his usual serenity of countenance. A friend, who knew 
the disastrous intelligence he had received, expressed his as- 
tonishment that he could have calmness of spirit sufficient for 
such a scene of light amusement. "What would you have 
me do?" was his characteristic reply; "would you have me 
stay at home and weep for what I cannot help ?" 



CHAPTER Xn. 



The tidings of the loss of the Tonquin, and the massacre of 
her crew, struck dismay into the hearts of the Astorians. 
They found themselves a mere handful of men, on a savage 
coast, surrounded by hostile tribes, who would doubtless be 
incited and encouraged to deeds of violence by the late fearful 
cata^strophe. In this juncture Mr. M'Dougal, we are told, had 
recourse to a stratagem by which to avail himself of the igno- 
rance and credulity of the savages, and which certainly does 
credit to his ingenuity. 

The natives of the coa.st, and, indeed, of all the regions west 
of the mountains, had an extreme dread of the smallpox, that 
terrific scourge having, a few years previously, appeared 
among them and almost swept off entire tribes. Its origin 
and nature were wrapped in mystery, and they conceived it 
an evil inflicted upon them by the Great Spirit, or brought 
among them by the white men. The last idea was seized upon 
by Mr. M'Dougal. He assembled several of the chieftains 
whom he believed to be in the conspiracy. When they were 
all seated around, he informed them that he had heard of the 
treachery of some of their northern brethren toward the Ton- 
quin, and was determined on vengeance. ' ' The white men 
among you," said he, " are few in number, it is true, but they 
are mighty in medicine. See here," continued he, drawing 



ASTORIA. 95 

forth a small bottle and holding it before their eyes, '' in this 
bottle I hold the smallpox, safely corked up; I have but to 
draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence, to sweep man, 
woman, and child from the face of the earth." 

The chiefs were struck with horror and alarm. They im- 
plored him not to uncork the bottle, since they and all their 
people were firm friends of the white men, and would always 
remain so ; but, should the smallpox be once let out, it would 
run like wildfire throughout the country, sweeping off the 
good as well as the bad, and surely he would not be so unjust 
as to punish his friends for crimes committed by his enemies. 

Mr. M'Dougal pretended to be convinced by their reasoning, 
and assured them that, so long as the white people should bo 
unmolested, and the conduct of their Indian neighbors friendly 
and hospitable, the phial of wrath should remain sealed up; 
but, on the least hostility, the fatal cork should be drawn. 

From this time, it is added, he was much dreaded by the 
natives, as one who held their fate in his hands, and was 
called, by way of pre-eminence, "the Great Smallpox Chief." 

All this while, the labors at the infant settlement went on 
with unremitting assiduity, and, by the 26th of September a 
commodious mansion, spacious enough to accommodate all 
hands, was completed. It was built of stone and clay, there 
being no calcareous stone in the neighborhood from which 
lime for mortar could be procured. The schooner was also 
finished, and launched, with the accustomed ceremony, on the 
second of October, and took her station below the fort. She 
was named the Dolly, and was the first American vessel 
launched on this coast. 

On the 5th of October, in the evening, the little community 
at Astoria was enlivened hy the unexpected arrival of a ds- 
tachment from Mr. David Stuart's post on the Oakinagan. It 
consisted of two of the clerks and two of the privates. They 
brought favorable accounts of the new establishment, but re- 
ported that, as Mr. Stuart was apprehensive there might be a 
difficulty of subsisting his whole party throughout the winter, 
he had sent one half back to Astoria, retaining with him only 
Ross, Montigny, and two others. Such is the hardihood of the 
Indian trader. In the heart of a savage and unknown coun- 
try, seven hundred miles from the m.ain body of his fellow- 
adventurers, Stuart had dismissed half of his little number, 
and was prepared with the residue to brave all the perils of 
the wilderness, and the rigors of a long and dreary winter. 



9(3 ASTOIUA. 

With the return party came a Canadian Creole named Re- 
gis Brugiere, and an Iroquois hi/nter, with his wife and two 
children. As these two personages belong to certain classes 
which have derived their peculiar characteristics from the fur 
trade, we deem some few pai-ticulars concerning them porti- 
feient to the nature of this work. 

Brugiere was of a class of beaver trappers and hunters tech- 
nically called freemen, in the language of the traders. They 
are generally Canadians by birth, and of French descent, v/ho 
have been employed for a term of years by some fur company, 
but, their term being expu-ed, continue to hunt and trap on 
their own account, trading with the company like the Indians. 
Hence they derive their appellation of freemen, to distinguish 
them from the trappers who are bound for a number of years, 
and receive wages, or hunt on shares. 

Having passed their early youth in the wilderness, sepa- 
rated almost entirelj from civilized man, and in frequent inter- 
course with the ludiau^, they rehapse, with a facility connnon 
to human nature, into the habitudes of savage life. Though 
no longer bound by engagements to continue in the interior, 
they have become so accustomed to the freedom of the forest 
and the prairie, that they look back with repugnance upon the 
restraints of civilization. Most of them intermarry Avith the 
natives, and, like the latter, have often a pluraiity of wives. 
Wanderers of the wilderness, according to the vicissitudes of 
the seasons, the migrations of animals, and the plenty or scar- 
city of game, they lead a precarious and unsettled :)xistence ; 
exposed to sun and storm and all kinds of hardships, until 
they resemble Indians in complexion as well as in tastes and 
habits. From time to time they bring the peltries they have 
collected to the trading houses of the company in whose em- 
ploy they have been brought up. Here they traffic them 
away for such articles of merchandise or ammunition as they 
may stand in need of. At the time when Montreal was the 
great emporium of the fur trader, one of these freemen of the 
wilderness would suddenly return, after an absence of many 
years, among his old friends and comrades. He would be 
greeted as one risen from the dead ; and with the greater wel- 
come, as he returned flush of money. A short time, however, 
spent in revelry would be sufficient to drain his purse and sate 
him with civilized life, and lie would return with new relish to 
the unshackled freedom of the forest. 

Numbers of men of this class were scattered throughout 



ASTORIA. 97 

the northwest territories. Some of them retained a little of 
the thrift and forethought of the civilized man, and became 
wealthy among their improvident neighbors ; their wealth be- 
ing chiefly disjjlayed in large bands of horses, which covered 
the prairies in the vicinity of their abodes. Most of them, 
however, v\^ere prone to assimilate to the red man in their 
heedlessness of the future. 

Such was Regis Brugiere, a freeman and rover of the wilder- 
ness. Having been brought up in the service of the Northwest 
Company, he had followed in the train of one of its expeditions 
across the Rocky Mountains, and undertaken to trap for the 
trading post established on the Spokan River, In the course 
of his banting excursions he had either accidentally, or design- 
edly, found his way to the post of Mr. Stuart, and been pre- 
vailed upon to descend the Columbia, and "try his luck" at 
A.storia. 

Ignace Shonowane, the Iroquois hunter, was a specimen of 
a different class. He was one of those aboriginals of Canada 
who had partially conformed to the habits of civilization, and 
the doctrines of Christianity, under the influence of the French 
colonists and the Catholic priests ; who seem generally to have 
been more successful in conciliating, taming, and converting 
the savages, than their English and Protestant rivals. These 
half -civilized Indians retained some of the good and many of 
the evil qualities of their original stock. They were first-rate 
hunters, and dexterous in the management of the canoe. 
They could undergo great privations, and were admirable for 
the service of the rivers, lakes, and forests, provided they 
could be kept sober, and in proper subordination; but, once 
inflamed v/ith liquor, to which they were madly addicted, all 
the dormant passions inherent in their nature were prone to 
break forth, and to hurry them mto the most vindictive and 
bloody acts of violence. 

Though they generally professed the Roman Catholic reli- 
gion, yet it was mixed, occasional!}^, Vvdth some of their ancient 
superstitions ; and they retained much of the Indian belief in 
charms and omens. Numbers of these men were employed by 
the Northwest Company as trappers, hunters, and canoe-men, 
but on lower terms than were allowed to white men. Ignace 
Shonowane had, in this way, followed the enterprise of the 
company to the banks of the Spokan, being, probably, one of 
the fii^st of his tribe that had traversed the Rocky Mountains. 

Such were some of the motley populace of the wilderness, 



98 ASTORIA. 

incident to the fur trade, who were gradually attracted to the 
new settlement of Astoria. 

The month of October now began to give indications of 
approaching winter. Hitherto the colonists had been well 
pleased with the climate. The summer had been temperate, 
the mercury never rising above eighty degrees. Westerly 
winds had prevailed during the spring and the early port of 
summer, and been succeeded by fresh breezes from the north- 
west. In the month of October the southerly winds set in, 
bringing with them frequent rain. 

The Indians now began to quit the borders of the ocean, and 
to retire to their winter quarters in the sheltered bosom of the 
forests, or along the small rivers and brooks. The rainy sea- 
son, which commences in October, continues, with little inter- 
mission, until April; and though the winters a,re generally 
mild, the mercury seldom sinking below the freezing point, 
yet the tempests of wind and rain are terrible. The sun is* 
sometimes obscured for weeks, the brooks swell into roaring 
torrents, and the country is threatened with a deluge. 

The departure of the Indians to their winter quarters gradu- 
ally rendered provisions scanty, and obliged the colonists to 
send out foraging expeditions in the Dolly. Still, the little 
handful of adventurers kept up their spirits in their lonely fort 
at Astoria, looking forward to the time when they should be 
animated and reinforced by the party under Mr. Hunt, that 
was to come to them across the Rocky Mountains. 

The year gi\adually wore away. The rain, which had poured 
down almost incessantly since the first of October, cleared up 
toward the evening of the 31st of December, and the morning 
of the first of January ushered in a day of sunshine. 

The hereditary French holiday spirit of the C?inadian voy- 
ageurs is hardly to be depressed by any adversities; and they 
can manage to get up a fete in the most squalid situations, and 
under the most untoward circmnstances. An extra allowance 
of rum, and a little flour to make cakes and puddings, consti- 
tute a ' ' regale ;" and they forget all their toil.i and troubles in 
the song and dance. 

On the present occasion the partners endeavored to celebrate 
the new year with some effect. At sunrise the drums beat to 
arms, the colors were hoisted with three rounds of small arms 
and three discharges of cannon. The day was devoted to ga^nies 
of agilifcy and strength, and other amusements ; and grog was 
temperately distributed, together with bread, butter, and. 



ASTORIA. 99 

cheese. The best dinner their circumstances could afford was 
served up at midday. At sunset the colors were lowered, with 
another discharge of artillery. The night was spent in danc- 
ing ; and, though there was a lack of female partners to excite 
their gallantry, the voyageurs kept up the ball, with true 
French spirit, until three o'clock in the morning. So passed 
the new year festival of 1813 at the infant colony of Astoria. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



We have followed up the fortunes of the maritime part of 
this enterprise to the shores of the Pacific, and have conducted 
the affairs of the embryo establishment to the opening of the 
new year ; let us now lui n back to the adventurous band to 
whom was intrusted the land expedition, and who were to 
make their way to the mouth of the Colimibia, up vast rivers, 
across trackless ^plains, and over the rugged barriers of the 
Rocky Mountains. 

The conduct of this expedition, as has been already men- 
tioned, was assigned to Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of Trenton, 
New Jersey, one of the partners of the company, ^vho was 
ultimately to be at the head of the estabhshment at the mouth 
of the Columbia. He is represented as a man scrupulously 
upright and faithful in his dealings, amicable in liis disposi- 
tion, and of most accommodating manners; and his whole 
conduct will be found in unison with such a character. He 
was not practically experienced in the Indian trade ; that is to 
say, he had never made any expeditions of traffic into the 
heart of the wilderness, but he had been engaged in commerce 
at St. Louis, then a frontier settlement on the Mississippi, 
where the chief branch of his business had consisted in fur- 
nishing Indian traders with goods and equipments. In this 
way he had acquired much knowledge of the trade at second 
hand, and of the various tribes, and the interior country over 
which it extended. 

Another of the partners, Mr. Donald M'Kenzie, was asso- 
ciated with Mr. Hunt in the expedition, and excelled on those 
points in which the other was deficient ; for he had been ten 
years in the interior, in service of the Northwest Company, 
and valued himself on his knowledge of "woodcraft," and 
the strategy of Indian trade and Indian warfare. He had a 



100 A8T0BIA. 

frame seasoned to toils and hardships, a spirit not to be intimi- 
dated, and was reputed to be a "remarkable shot;" which of 
itself was sufficient to give him renown upon the frontier. 

Mr. Hunt and his coadjutor repaired, about the latter part of 
July, 1810, to Montreal, the ancient emporium of the fur trade, 
where everything requisite for the expedition could be pro- 
^cured. One of the first objects was to recruit a complement 
of Canadian voyageurs from the disbanded herd usually to be 
found loitering about the place. A degree of jockey ship, how- 
ever, is required for this service, for a Canadian voyageur is as 
full of latent tricks and vice as a horse ; and when he makes 
the greatest external promise, is prone to prove the greatest 
"take in." Besides, the Northwest Company, who maintained 
a long established control at Montreal, and knew the qualities 
of every voyageur, secretly interdicted the prim.e hands from 
engaging in this new service; so that, although liberal terms 
were offered, few presented themselves but such as were not 
worth having. 

From these Mr. Hunt engaged a number sufficient, as he 
supposed, for present purposes; and, having laid in a supply 
of ammunition, provisions, and Indian goods, embarked all on 
board one of those great canoes at that time universally used 
by the fur traders for navigating the intricate and often-ob- 
structed rivers. The canoe was between thirty and forty feet 
long, and several feet in width; constructed of birch bark, 
sewed with fibres of the roots of the spruce tree, and daubed 
with resin of the pine, instead of tar. The cargo was made up 
in packages, weighing from ninety to one hundred pounds 
each, for the facility of loading and unloading, and of trans- 
portation at portages. The canoe itself, though capable of sus- 
taining a freight of upward of four tons, could readily be 
carried on men's shoulders. Canoes of this size are generally 
managed by eight or ten men, two of whom are picked vete- 
rans, who receive double wages, and are stationed, one at the 
bow and the other at the stern, to keep a lookout and to steer. 
They are termed the foreman and the steersman. The rest, 
who ply the paddles, are called middle-men. When there is a 
favorable breeze, the canoe is occasionally navigated with a 
sail. 

The expedition took its regular departure, as usual, from St. 
Anne's, near the extremity of the island of Montreal, the great 
starting place of the traders to the interior. Here stood the 
ancient chapel of St. Anne, the patroness of the Canadian voy- 



ASTORIA. \oi 

ageurs, where they made confession, and offered up their 
vows, previous to departing on any hazardous expedition. 
The shrine of the saint was decorated with rehcs and votive 
offering's hung up by these superstitious beings, either to pro- 
pitiate her favor, or in gratitude for some signal dehverance 
in the wilderness. It was the custom, too, of these devout 
vagabonds, after leaving the chapel, to have a grand carouse, 
in honor of the saint and for the prosperity of the voyage. In 
this part of their devotions, the crew of Mr. Hunt proved 
themselves by no means deficient. Indeed, he soon discovered 
that his recruits, enlisted at Montreal, were fit to vie with the 
ragged regiment of Falstaff. Some were able-bodied, but in- 
expert ; others were expert, but lazy ; while a third class were 
expert and willing, but totally worn out, being broken down 
veterans, incapable of toil. 

With this ineCicient crew he made his way up the Ottawa 
Elver, and by the ancient route of the fur traders along a suc- 
cession of small lakes and rivers to Michilimackinac. Their 
progress was clow and tedious. Mr, Hunt was not accustomed 
to the management of "voyageurs," and he had a crew ad- 
mirably disposed to play the old soldier, and balk their work, 
and ever ready to come to a halt, land, make a fire, put on the 
great pot, and smoke, and gossip, and sing by the hour. 

It was not until the 22d of July that they arrived at Macki- 
naw, situated on the island of the same name, at the confluence 
of lakes Huron and Michigan. This famous old French trad- 
ing post continued to be a rallying point for a multifarious and 
motley population. The inhabitants were amphibious in their 
habits, most of them being, or having been, voyageurs or 
canoe-man. It was the great place of arrival and departure of 
the southwest fur trade. Here the Mackinaw Company had 
established its principal post, from whence it conununicated 
with the interior and with Montreal. Hence its various 
traders and trappers set out for their respective destinations 
about Lake Superior and its tributary waters, or for the Mis- 
sissippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and the other regions of 
the west. Here, after the absence of a year or more, they 
returned with their peltries, and settled their accounts; the 
furs rendered in by them being transmitted, in canoes, from 
hence to Montreal. Mackinaw was, therefore, for a great part 
of the year, very scantily peopled ; but at certain seasons the 
traders arrived from all points, with their crews of voyageurs, 
and the place swarmed like a hive. 



102 ASTORIA. 

Mackinaw, at that time, was a mere village, stretching along 
a small bay, with a fine broad beach in front of its principal 
row of houses, and dominated by the old fort, which crowned 
an impending height. The beach was a kind of public prome- 
nade, where were displayed all the vagaries of a seaport on 
the arrival of a fleet from a long cruise. Here voyageurs 
frolicked away their wages, fiddling and dancing in the booths 
and cabins, buying all kinds of knick-knacks, dressing them- 
selves out finely, and parading up and down, like arrant 
braggarts and coxcombs. Sometimes they met with rival 
coxcombs in the young Indians from the opposite shore, who 
would appear on the beach painted and decorated in fantastic 
style, and would sauntcA^ up and down, to be gazed at and ad- 
mired, perfectly satisfied that they eclipsed their pale-faced 
competitors. 

Now and then a chance party of ' ' Northwesters" appeared 
at Mackinaw from the rendezvous at Fort William. These 
held themselves up as the chivalry of the fur trade. They 
were men of iron ; proof against cold weather, hard fare, and 
perils of all kinds. Some would wear the northwest button, 
and a formidable dirk, and assume some tiling of a military 
air. They generally wore feathers in their hats, and affected 
the "brave." "Jesuisini homme du nord!" — "I am a man 
of the north," one of these swelling fellows would exclaim, 
sticking his arms akimbo and ruffling by the South westers, 
whom he regarded with great contempt, as men softened by 
mild climates and the luxurious fare of bread and bacon, and 
whom he stigmatized with the inglorious name of pork-eaters. 
The superiority assumed by these vainglorious swaggerers 
was, in general, tacitly a^dmitted. Indeed, some of them had 
acquired great notoriety for deeds of hardihood and courage ; 
for the fur trade had its heroes, whose names resounded 
throu.^hout the wilderness. 

Such was Mackinaw at the time of which we are treating. 
It now, doubtless, presents a totally different afrpect. The fur 
companies no longer assemble there; the navigation of the 
lakes is carried on by steamboats and various shipping, and 
the race of traders, and trappers, and voyageurs, and Indian 
dandies, have vapored out their brief hour and disappeared. 
Such changes does the la,pse of a handful of years make in this 
ever-changing country. 

At this place Mr. Hunt remained for some time, to complete 
his atsortincnt of Indian goods, and to increase his number of 



ASTORIA. 103 

voyageurs, as well as to engage some of a more efficient char- 
acter than those enlisted at Montreal. 

And now commenced another game of jockey ship. There 
were able and efficient men in abundance at l^.Iackinaw, but for 
several days not one presented himself. If offers were made 
to any, they were listened to with a shake of the head. Should 
any one seem inclined to enlist, there were officious idlers and 
busybodies, of that class who are ever ready to dissuade others 
from any enterprise in which they themselves have no concern. 
These would pull him by the sleeve, take him on one side, and 
murmur in his ear, or would suggest difficulties outright. 

It was objected that the expedition would have to navigate 
unknown rivers, and pass through howling wildernesses in- 
fested by savage tribes, who had already cut off the unfortu- 
nate voyageurs that had ventured among them ; that it was to 
climb the Rocky Mountains and descend into desolate and 
famished regions, where the traveUer was often obliged to 
subsist on grasshoppers and crickets, or to kill his own horse 
for food. 

At length one man was hardy enough to engage, and he was 
used like a "stool-pigeon," to decoy ethers; but several days 
elapsed before any more could be prevailed ui)on to join him. 
A few then came to terms. It was desirable to engage them 
for five years, but some refused to engage for more than three. 
Then they must have part of their pay in advance, which was 
readily granted. When they had pocketed the amount, and 
squandered it in regales or in outfits, they began to talk of 
pecuniary obligations at Mackinaw, which must be discharged 
before they would be free to depart; or engagements with 
other persons, which were only to be cancelled by a " reasona- 
ble consideration." 

It was in vain to argue or remonstrate. The money ad- 
vanced had already been sacked and spent, and must be lost 
and the recruits left behind, unless they could be freed from 
their debts and engagements. Accordingly, a fine was paid 
for one ; a judgment for another ; a tavern bill for the third ; 
and almost all had to be bought off from some prior engage- 
ment, either real or pretended. 

Mr. Hunt groaned in spirit at the incessant and unreason- 
able demands of these worthies upon his purse ; yet with aU 
this outlay of funds, the number recruited was but scanty, 
and many of the most desirable still held themselves aloof, 
and were not to be caught by a golden bait. With these he 



104 ASTOIUA. 

tried another temptation. Among the recruits who had en- 
Usted he distributed feathers and ostrich plumes. These they 
put in their hats, and thus figured about Mackinaw, assuming 
airs of vast importance, as "voyageurs in a new company, 
that was to echpse the Northwest." The effect was complete. 
A French Canadian is too vain and mercurial a being to with- 
stand the linery and ostentation of the feather. Numbers im- 
mediately pressed into the service. One must have an ostrich 
j)lume; another, a white feather with a red end; a third, a 
bunch o£ cocks' tails. Thus all paraded about in vaingiorixis 
style, more delighted with the feathers in their hats than with 
the money in their pockets ; and considering themselves fully 
equal to the boa^stful "men of the north." 

While thus recruiting the number of rank and file, Mr. 
Hunt wa,s joined by a person Avhom he had invited, by letter, 
to engage as a partner in the expedition. This was Mr. Eam- 
say Crooks, a young man, a native of Scotland, who had 
served under the Northwest Company, and been engaged in 
trading expeditions upon his individual account, among the 
tribes of the Missouri. Mr. Hunt knew him personally, and 
had conceived a high and merited opinion of his judgment, 
enterprise, and integrity ; he was rejoiced, therefore, when the 
latter consented to accompany him. Mr. Crooks, however, 
drew from experience a picture of the dangers to which they 
would be subjected, and urged the importance of going with a 
considerable force. In ascending the upper Missouri they 
would have to pass through the country of the Sioux Indians, 
who had manifested repeated hostility to the white traders, 
and rendered their expeditions extremely perilous ; firing upon 
them from the river banks as they passed beneath in their 
boats, and attacking them in their encampments. Mr. Crooks 
himself, when voyaging in company with another trader of the 
name of M'Lellan, had been interrupted by these marauders, 
and had considered himself fortunate in escaping down the 
river without loss of life or property, but with a total abandon- 
ment of his trading voyage. 

Should they be fortunate enough to pass through the coun- 
try of the Sioux without molestation, they would have another 
tribe still more savage and warlike beyond, and deadly foes of 
the white men. These were the Blackfeet Indians, who ranged 
over a wide extent of country which they would have to 
traverse. 

Under all these circumstances it was thought advisable to 



ASTORIA. 205 

augment the party considerably. It already exceeded the 
number of thirty, to which it had originally been hmited ; but 
it was determined, on arriving at St. Louis, to increase it to 
the number of sixty. 

These matters being arranged, they prepared to embark; 
but the embarkation of a crew of Canadian voyageurs, on a 
distant expedition, is not so easy a matter as might be im- 
agined; especially of such a set of vainglorious fellows with 
money in both pockets, and cocks' tails in their hats. Like 
sailors, the Canadian voyageurs generally preface a long cruise 
with a carouse. They have their cronies, their brothers, their 
cousins, then- wives, their sweethearts ; all to be entertained at 
their expense. They feast, they fiddle, they drink, they sing, 
they dance, they frohc and fight, until they are all as mad as 
so many drunken Indians. The publicans are all obedience to 
their commands, never hesitating to let them run up scores 
without limit, knowing that, when their own money is ex- 
pended, the purses of their employers must answer for the bill, 
or the voyage must be delayed. Neither was it possible, at 
that time, to remedy the matter at Mackinaw. In that am- 
phibious community there was always a propensity to wrest 
the laws in favor of riotous or mutinous boatmen. It was 
necessary, also, to keef) the recruits in good humor, seeing the 
novelty and danger of the service into which they were enter- 
ing, and the ease YA\h wliich they might at any time escape it, 
by jumping into a canoe and going down the stream. 

Buch v\^ere the scenes that beset Mr. Hunt, and gave him a 
foretaste of the difficulties of his command. The little cabarets 
and sutlers' shops along the bay resounded with the scraping 
of fiddles, with snatches of old French songs, with Indian 
whoops and yells : while every plumed and feathered vagabond 
had his troop of loving cousins and comrades at his heels. It 
was with the utmost difficulty they could be extricated from 
the clutches of the publicans and the embraces of their pot 
companions, who f oUowed them to the water's edge with many 
a hug, a kiss on each cheek, and a maudlin benediction in 
Canadian French. 

It was about the 12th of August that they left Mackinaw, 
and pursued the usual route by Green Bay, Fox and Wiscon- 
sin Eivers, to Prairie du Chien, and thence down the Missis- 
sippi to St. Louis, where they landed on the third of Sep> 
tember. 



06 ASTOBjA. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

St. Louis, which /s situated on the right bank of the Missis- 
Bippi River, a few miles below the mouth of the Missouri, was, 
at that time, a. frontier settlement, and the last fitting-out 
Dlace fer the Indian trade of the southwest. It possessed a 
motley population composed of the Creole descendants of the 
original French colonists ; the keen traders from the Atlantic 
States; the back wood-men of Kentucky and Tennessee; the 
Indians and half-breeds of the prairies; together with a singu- 
lar aquatic race that had grown up from the navigation of the 
rivers — the " boatmen of the Mississippi," who possessed hab- 
its, manners, and almost a language, peculiarly theu- own, and 
strongly technical. They^ at that time, were extremely numer- 
ous, and conducted the chief navigation and commerce of the 
Ohio and the ]\Iississippi, as the voyageurs did of the Canadian 
waters; but, like them, their consequence and characteristics 
are rapidly vanishing before the ail-pervading intrusion of 
steamboats. 

The old French houses engaged in the Indian trade had 
gathered round them a train of dependents, mongrel Indians, 
and mongrel Frenchmen, who had intermarried with Indians. 
These they employed in their various expeditions by land and 
water. Various individuals of other countries had of late 
years, pushed the trade farther into the interior, to the upper 
waters of the Missouri, and had swelled the number of these 
hangers-on. Several of these traders had, two or three years 
previously, formed themselves into a company, composed of 
fcAvelve partners, with a capital of about forty thousand dollars, 
called the Missouri Fur Company, the object of which was to 
establish posts along the upper part of that river, and mono- 
polize the trade. The leading partner of this com^pany was 
Mr. Manuel Lisa, a Spaniard by birth, and a man of bold and 
enterprising character, who had ascended the Missoiui almost 
to its source, and made himself weU acquainted and popular 
with several of its tribes. By his exertions, trading posts had 
been established, in 1808, in the Sioux country, and among the 
Aricara and Mandan tribes; and a principal one, under Mr. 
Henr}^, one of the partners, a-t the forks of the Missouri. This 



ASTORIA. 107 

company had in its employ about two hundred and fifty men, 
partly American hunters, and partly Creoles and Canadian 

voya2:eurs. 

All these circumstani^es combined to produce a population at 
St. Louis even still more motley than that at Mackinaw. Here 
were to be seen about the river banks, the hectoring, extra- 
vagant, bragging boatmen oi" the Mississippi, with the gay, 
grimacing, singing, good-humored Cana,dian voyageurs. Va- 
grant Indians, of various tribes, loitered about the streets. 
Now and then, a stark Kentucky hunter, in leathern hunting- 
dress, with rifle on shoulder and knife in belt, strode alon^\ 
Here and tliere were new brick houses and shops, just set up 
by busthng, driving, and eager men of traffic from the Atlants 
States; while, on the other hand, the old French mansions, 
with open casements, still retained the easy, indolent air of the 
original colonists ; and now and then the scraping of a fiddle, a 
strain of an ancient French song, or the sound of billiard balls, 
sho^ved that the happy Gallic turn for gayety and amusement 
still lingered about the place. 

Such was St. Louis at the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival there, 
and the appearance of a new fur company, with ample funds 
at its command, produced a strong sensation among the Indian 
traders of the place, and awakened keen jealousy and opposi- 
tion on the part of the Missouri Company. Mr. Hunt pro- 
ceeded to strengthen himself against all competition. For this 
purpose, he secured to the interests of the association another 
of those enterprising men, who had been engaged in indi- 
vidual traffic with the tribes of the Missouri. This was a 
I\Ir. Joseph Miller, a gentleman well educated and well in- 
formed, and of a respectable family of Baltimore. He had 
been an officer in the army of the United States, but had 
resigned in disgust, on being refused a furlough, and bad 
taken to trapping beaver and trading among the Indians. He 
was easily induced by Mr. Hunt to join as a partner, and was 
considered by him, on account of his education and acquire- 
ments, and his experience in Indian trade, a valuable addition 
to the company. 

Several additional men were likewise enlisted in St. Louis, 
some as boatmen, and others as hunters. These last were en- 
gaged, not merely to kill ga.me for provisions, but also, and 
indeed chiefly, to trap beaver and other animals of rich furs, 
valuable in the trade. They enlisted on different terms. Some 
were to have a fixed salarv of three hundred dollars ; others 



108 ASTORIA. 

were to be fitted out and maintained at the expense of ilxO 
company, and were to hunt and trap on shares. 

As Mr. Hunt met with much opposition on the part of rival 
traders, especially the Missouri Fur Company, it took him 
some weeks to complete his preparations. The delays wliich 
he had previously experienced at Montreal, Mackinaw, and on 
the way, added to those at St. Louis, had thrown him much 
behind his original calculations, so that it would be impossible 
to effect his voyage up the Missouri in the present year. TMs 
river, flowing from high and cold latitudes, and through wide 
and open plains, exposed to cliilling blasts, freezes early. The 
winter may be dated from the first of November; there was 
every prospect, therefore, that it would be closed with ice long 
before Mr. Hunt could reach its upper waters. To avoid, how- 
ever, the expense of wintering at St. Louis, he determined to 
push up the river as far as possible, to some point above the 
settlements, where game was plenty, and where his whole 
party could be subsisted by hunting, until the breaking up 
of the ice in the spring should permit them to resume their 
voyage. 

Accordingly, on the t vr en ty- first of October he took his de- 
parture from St. Louis. His party was distributed in three 
boats. One was the barge which he had brought from Mack- 
inaw ; another was of a larger size, such as was formerly used 
in navigating the Mohawk River, and known by the generic 
name of the Schenectady barge ; the other was a large keel 
boat, at that time the grand convej^ance on the Mississippi. 

In this way they set out from St. Louis, in buoyant spirits, 
and soon arrived at the mouth of the Missouri. This vast river, 
three thousand miles in length, and which, with its tributary 
streams, drains such an immense extent of country, was as yet 
but casually and imperfectly navigated by the adventurou.9 
bark of the fur trader. A steamboat had never yet stemmed 
its turbulent cm-rent. Sails were but of casual assistance, for 
it required a strong wind to conquer the force of the stream. 
The main dependence was on bodily strength and manual 
dexterity. The boats, in general, had to be propelled by oars 
and setting poles, or drawn by the hand and by grappling hooks 
from one root or overhanging tree to another; or towed by the 
long cordelle, or towing line, where the shores were sufficiently 
clear of woods and thickets to permit the men to pass along 
the banks. 

During this slow and tedious progress the boat would be ex- 



ASTORIA. 109 

posed to frequent danger from floating trees and great masses 
of drift-wood, or to be impaled upon snags and sawyers ; that 
is to say, sunken trees, presenting a jagged or pointed end 
above the surface of the water. As the channel of the river 
frequently shifted from side to side, according to the bends 
and sand-banks, the boat had, in the same way, to advance in 
a zigzag course. Often a part of the crew would have to leap 
into tne water at the shalloAvs, and wade along with the tow- 
ing line, while their comrades on board toilfully assisted with 
oar and setting pole. Sometimes the boat would seem to be 
retained motionless, as if spellbound, opposite somae point 
round which the current set with violence, and where the 
utmost labor scarce effected any visible progress. 

On these occasions it was that the merits of the Canadian 
voyageurs came into full action. Patient of toil, not to be dis- 
heartened by impediments and disapj^ointments, fertile in ex- 
pedients, and versed in every mode of humoring and conquer- 
ing the wayward current, they would ply every exertion, 
sometimes in the boat, sometimes on shore, sometimes in the 
water, however cold ; always alert, always in good humor ; and, 
should they at any time flag or grow weary, one of their jiopu- 
lar boat songs, chanted by a veteran oarsman, and responded 
to in chorus, actel as a never-faihng restorative. 

By such assiduous and persevering labor they made their 
way about four hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri, by 
the 16th of November, to the mouth of the Nodowa. As this 
was a good hunting country, and as the season was rapidly ad- 
vancing, they determined to estabhsh their winter quarters at 
this place ; and, in fact, two days after they had come to a 
halt, the river closed just above their encampment. 

The party had not been long at this place when they were 
joined by Mr. Robert M'Lellan, another trader of the Missouri ; 
the same Avho had been associated with Mr. Crooks in the un- 
foi'tunate expedition in Avhich they had been intercepted by 
the Sioux Indians, and obhged to make a rapid retreat down 
the river. 

M'Lellan was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan 
under General Wayne, in his Indian wars, where he had dis- 
tinguished hhnself by his fiery spirit and recklcfiS daring, and 
marvellous stories were told of his exploits. His appearance 
answered to his character. His frame was meagre, but mus- 
cular; showing strength, activity, and iron firmness. His eyes 
were dark, deep set, and piercing. He was restless, fearless, 



210 ASTORIA. 

but of impetuous and sometimes ungovernable temper. He 
had been invited by Mr. Hunt to enroll himself as a partner, 
and gladly consented ; being pleased with the thoughts of pass- 
ing, with a powerful force, through the "country of the Sioux, 
and perhaps having an opportunity of revenging himself upon 
that lawless tribe for their past offences. 

Another recruit that joined the camp at Nodowa deserves 
equal mention. This was John Day, a hunter from the back- 
woods of Virginia, v/ho had been several years on the Missouri 
in the service of Mr. Crooks, and of other traders. He was 
r.bout forty years of age, six feet two inches high, straight as 
an Indian ; with an ela.stic step as if he trod on springs, and a 
handsome, open, manly countenance. It was his boast that in 
his younger days nothing could hurt or daunt him ; but he had 
" lived too fast" and injured his constitution by his excesses. 
Still he was strong of hand, bold of heart, a prime v/oodman, 
and an almost unerring shot. He had the franii spirit of a 
"Virginian, and the rough heroism of a x'^ioiieer of the west. 

The party were now brought to a halt for several months. 
They were in a country abounding with deer pmd wild turkey's, 
so that there was no stint of provisions, and every one ap- 
peared cheerful and contented. Mr. Hunt determined to avail 
himself of this interval to return to St. Louis and obtain a rein- 
forcement. He wished to procure an interpreter, acquainted 
with the language of the Sioux, as, from all accounts, he ap- 
prehended difficulties in passing through the country of that 
nation. He felt tlie necessity, also, of having a greater num- 
ber of hunters, not merely to keep up a supply of provisions 
throughout their long and arduous expedition, but also as a 
protection and defence, in case of Indian hostilities. For such 
service the Canadian voyageurs were little to be depended 
upon, fighting not being a part of their profession. The proper 
kind of men Avere American hunters experienced in savage 
life and savage warfare, and possessed of the true game spirit 
of the west. 

Leaving, therefore, the encampment in charge of the other 
partners, Mr. Hunt set off on foot on the first of January 
(1810), for St. Louis. He was accompanied by eight men as 
far as Fort Osage, about one hundred and fifty miles belov;" 
Nodowa. Here he procured a couple of horses, and proceeded 
on the remainder of his journey with two men, sending the 
other six back to the encampment. He arrived at St. Louis on 
the 20th of January. 



ASTORIA. \ix 



CHAPTER XV. 

On this his second visit to St. Louis, Mr. Hunt was again 
impeded in his plans by the opposition of the Missouri Fur 
Company. The affairs of that company were, at this time, in 
a very dubious state. During the preceding year, their prin- 
cipal establishment at the forks of the Missouri had been so 
much harassed by the Blackfeet Indians that its commander, 
Mr. Henry, one of the partners, had been compelled to aban- 
don the post and cross the Rocky Mountains, with the in- 
tention of fixing himself ui)on one of the upper branches of 
the Columbia. What had become of him and his party was 
unknown. The most intense anxiety was felt concerning 
them, and apprehensions that they might have been cut olf 
by the savages. At the time of Islv. Hunt's arrival at St. 
Louis, the Missouri Company were fitting out an expedition 
to go in quest of Mr. Henry. It was to be conducted by 
Mr. Manuef Lisa^ the enterprising partner already mentioned. 

There being thus two expeditions on foot at the same mo- 
ment, an unusual demand was occasioned for hunters and 
voyagcurs, who accordingly profited by the circumstance, 
and stipulated for high terms. ]\Ir, Hunt found a keen and 
subtle competitor in Lisa, and was obliged to secure his re- 
cruits by liberal advances of pay, and by other pecuniary 
indulgences. 

T]ie greatest difficulty was to procure the Sioux interpreter. 
There was but one man to be met with at St. Louis who 
was fitted for the purpose, but to secure him would require 
much management. The individual in question was a half- 
breed, named Pierre Dorion; and as he figures hereafter in 
this narrative, and is. withal, a striking specimen of the hy- 
brid race on the frontier, we shall give a few particulars con- 
cerning him. Pierre was the son of Dorion, the French in- 
terpreter, who accompanied Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in 
their famous exploring expedition across the Rocky Moun- 
tains. Old Dorion was one of those French Creoles, descend- 
ants of the ancient Canadian stock, who abound on the 
western frontier, and amalgamate or cohabit with the savages. 
He had sojourned among various tribes, and perhai^s left 



112 ASTORIA. 

progeny among tlieni all; but Lis regular or habitual xdla 
was a Sioux squaw. By her he had a hopeful brood of half- 
breed sons, of wliom Pierre was one. The domestic aifairs 
of old Dor ion were conducted on the true Indian plan. Father 
and sons would occasionally get drunk together, and then 
the cabin was a scene of ruffian brav>d and fighting, in the 
course of wdiich the old Frenchman was apt to get soui'dly 
belabored by Ms mongrel offspring. In a furious scuffle of 
the kind, one of the sons got the old man upon the ground, 
and was upon the point of scalping him. "Hold! my son," 
cried the old fellow, in imploring accents, ' ' you are too brave, 
too honorable to scalp your father !" This last appeal touched 
the French side of the half-breed's heart, so he suffered the 
old man to wear his scalp unharmed 

Of this hopeful stock was Pierre Doiion, the man whom it 
was now the desire of Mr. Hunt to engage as an interpreter. 
He had been employed in that capacity by the Missouri Fur 
Company during the preceding year, and had conducted their 
traders in safety through the different tribes of the Sioux. He 
had proved himself faithful and serviceable while sober ; but 
the love of liquor, in which he had been nurtured and brought 
up, would occasionally break out, and with it the savage side 
of his character. 

It was his love of liquor which had embroiled him with the 
Missouri Company. While in their service at Fcrt IMandan on 
the frontier, he had been seized with a whiskey mania ; and as 
the beverage was only to be procured at the cornqoany's store, 
it had been charged in his account at the rate of ten dollars a 
quart. This item had ever remained unsettled, and a matter of 
furious dispute, the mere mention of which was sufficient to 
put him in a passion. 

The moment ifc was discovered by Mr. Lisa that Pierre 
Dorion was in treaty with the new and rival association, ho 
endeavored by threats as well as promises, to prevent his en- 
gaging in their service. His promises might, perhaps, have 
prevailed ; but his threats, which related to the whiskey debt, 
only served to drive Pierre into the opposite ranks. Still, ho 
took advantage oc this competition for his services to stand 
out with Mr. Hunt on the most advantageous terms, and, after 
a negotiation of nearly two weeks, capitulated to serve in the 
expedition, as hunter and interpreter, at the rate of three hun- 
dred dollars a year, two hundred of wliich were to be paid in 
advance. 



ASTORIA. 113 

When Mr. Hunt had got everything ready for leaving St. 
Louis new difficulties rose. Five of the American hunters from 
the encampment at Nodowa, suddenly made their appearance. 
They alleged that thqy had been ill-treated by the partners 
at the encampment, and had come ofi clandestinely, in conse- 
quence of a dispute. It was useless at the present moment, 
and under present circumstances, to attempt any compulsory 
measures with these deserters. Two of them Mr. Hunt pre- 
vailed upon, by mild means, to return with him. The rest re- 
fused ; nay, what was worse, they spread such reports of the 
hardships and dangers to be apprehended in the course of the 
expedition, that they stinick a panic into those hunters who 
had recently engaged at St. Louis, and, when the hour of de- 
parture arrived, all but one refused to embark. It was in vain 
to plead or remonstrate; they shouldered their rifles, and 
turned their back upon the expedition, and Mr. Hunt was fain 
to put off from shore with the single hunter and a number of 
voyageurs whom he had engaged. Even Pierre Dorion, at the 
last moment, refused to enter the boat rnitil Mr. Hunt con- 
sented to take his squaw and two children onboard also. But 
the tissue of perplexities, on account of this worthy individual, 
did not end here. 

Among the various persons who were about to proceed up 
the Missouri with Mr. Hunt, were two scientific gentlemen: 
one Mr. John Bradbury, a man of mature age, but great enter- 
prise and personal activity, who had been sent out by the Lin- 
nsean Society of Liverpool, to make a collection of American 
plants; the other, a Mr. Nuttall, likewise an Englishman, 
younger in years, who has since made himself known as the 
author of "Travels in Arkansas," and a work on the "Genera 
of American Plants." Mr. Hunt had offered them the protec- 
tion and facilities of his party, in their scientific researches up 
the Missouri. As they were not ready to depart at the moment 
of embarkation, they put their trunks on board of the boat, but 
remained at St. Louis until the next day, for the arrival of the 
post, intending to join the expedition at St. Charles, a short 
distance above the mouth of the Missouri. 

The same evening, hov/ever, they learned that a writ had 
been issued against Pierre Dorion for his whiskey debt, by Mr. 
Lisa, as agent of the Missouri Company, and that it was the in- 
tention to entrap the mongrel linguist on his arrival at St. 
Charles. Upon hearing this, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. NuttaU set 
off a little after midnight, by land, got ahead of the boat as it 



214 ASTORIA. 

was ascending the Missouri, before its arrival at St. Charles, 
and gave Pierre Dorion warning of the legrd toil prepared to 
ensnare him. The knowing Pierre immediately landed and 
took to the woods, followed by his squaw laden with their 
papooses, and a large bundle containing their most precious 
effects, promising to rejoin the party some distance above St. 
the Charles. There seemed httle dependence to be placed upon 
promises of a loose adventurer of the kind, who was at tha 
very time playing an evasive game with his former employers ; 
who had already received two thirds of his year's X3ay, and had 
his rifle on his shoulder, his family and worldly fortune at his 
heels, and the wild woods before him. There was no alterna- 
tive, however, and it vv^as hoped his j)ique against his old 
employers would render him faithful to his new ones. 

The party reached St. Charles in the afternoon, but the har- 
pies of the law looked in vain for their expected prey. The 
boats resumed their course on the following morning, and had 
not proceeded far when Pierre Dorion made his appearance on 
the shore. He was gladly taken on board, but he came with- 
out his squaw. They had quarrelled in the night ; Pierre had 
administered the Indian discipline of the cudgel, whereupon 
she had taken to the woods, with their children and all their 
worldly goods. Pierre evidently was deeply grieved and dis- 
concerted a.t the loss of his wife and his knapsack, wherefore 
Mr. Hunt dispatched one of the Canadian voyageurs in search 
of the fugitives; and the whole party, after proceeding a few 
n?iles further, encamped on an island to await his return. The 
Canadian rejoined the party, but without the squaY^^; and 
Pierre Dorion passed a solitary and anxious night, bitterly 
regretting his indiscretion in having exercised his conjugal 
authority so near home. Before daybreak, however, a well- 
known voice reached his ears from the opposite shore. It wa.s 
his re})cntant spouse, who had been wandering the woods all 
night in quest of the party, and had at length descried it by its 
fires. A boat was dispatched for her, the interesting family 
was once more united, and Mr. Hunt now flattered himself 
that his perplexities with Pierre Dorion were at an end. 

Bad weather, very heavy rains, and an unusually early rise 
in the Missouri rendered the ascent of the river toilsome, slow, 
and dangerous. The rise of the Missouri does not generally 
take place until the month of May or June ; the present swell- 
ing of the river must have been caused by a freshet in some of 
its more southern branches. It could not have been the great 



ASTORIA. 115 

annual flood, as the higher branches must still Imve been ice- 
bound. 

And here we cannot but pause, to notice the admirable 
arrangement of nature, by which the annual swelhngs of the 
various groat rivers which empty themselves into the Missis- 
sippi have been made to precede each other at considerable 
intervals. Thus, the flood of the Eed Eiver pi^ecedes that of 
the Arkansas by a month. The Arkansas, also, rising in a 
much more southern latitude than the Missouri, takes the lead 
of it in its annual excess, and its superabundant waters aro 
disgorged and disposed of long before the breaking up of the 
icy barriers of the north; otherwise, did all tliGJ?e mighty 
streams rise simultaneously, and discharge their vernal floods 
into the Mississippi, an inundation would be the consequence, 
that would submerge and devastate all the lower country. 

On the afternoon of the third day, January 17th, the boats 
touched at Charette, one of the old villages founded by the 
original French colonists. Here they met w^ith Daniel Eoone, 
the renowned patriarch of Kentucky, w^ho had kept in the 
advance of civilization, and on the borders of the wilderness, 
still leading a Jiunter's life, though now in his eighty -fifth year. 
He had but recently returned from a hunting and trapping 
expedition, and had brought nearly sixty beaver skins as 
trophies of his skill. The old man was still erect in form, 
strong in limb, and unflinching in spirit ; and as he stood on 
the river bank, watching the departure of an exjoedition des- 
tined to traverse the v/ilderness to the very shores of the 
Pacific, very probably felt a throb of his old pioneer spirit, 
impelling him to shoulder his rifle and join the adventurous 
band. Boone flourished several years after this meeting, in a 
vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and backwoodsmen; 
and died, full of sylvan honor and renown, in 1818, in his 
ninety-second year. 

The next morning eai-ly, as the party were yet encamped at 
the mouth of a small stream, they vv^ere visited by another Ol 
those heroes of the wilderness, one John Colter, who had 
accompanied Lewis and Clarke in their memorable expedition. 
He had recently made one of those vast internal voj'ages so 
characteristic of this fearless class of men, and of the immense 
regions over which they hold their lonely wanderings ; having 
come from the head- waters of the Missouri to St. Louis in a 
small canoe. This distance of tliree thousand miles he had 
accomplished in tliirty days. Colter kept with the part}' all 



116 ASTORIA. 

the morning. He had many particulars to give them concern- 
ing the Blackfeet Indians, a restless and predatory tribe, who 
had conceived an implacable hostility to the white men, in 
consequence of one of their warriors having been killed by 
Captain Lewis, while attempting to steal horses. Through the 
country infested by these savages the expedition would have 
to proceed, and Colter was urgent in reiterating the precau- 
tions that ought to be observed respecting them. He had 
himself experienced their vindictive cruelty, and his story 
deserves particular citation, as showing the hair-breadth ad- 
ventures to which these solitary rovers of the wilderness are 
exposed. 

Colter, with the hardihood of a regular trapper, had cast 
himself loose from the party of Lewis and Clarke in the very 
heart of the wilderness, and had remained to trap beaver 
alone on the head-waters of the Missouri. Here he fell in with 
another lonely trapper, hke himself, named Potts, and they 
agreed to keep together. They were in the very region of the 
terrible Blackfeet, at that time thirsting to revenge the death 
of their companion, and knew that they had to expect no 
mercy at their hands. They were obliged to keep concealed 
all day in the woody margins of the rivers, setting their traps 
after nightfall, and taking them up before daybreak. It was 
running a fearful risk for the sake of a few beaver skins ; but 
such is the life of the trapper. 

They were on a branch of the Missouri called Jefferson's 
Fork, and had set their traps at night, about six miles up a 
small river that emptied into the fork. Early in the morning 
they ascended the river in a canoe, to examine the traps. The 
banks on each side were high and perpendicular, and cast a 
shade over the stream. As they were softly paddhng along, 
they heard the trampling of many feet upon the banks. Colter 
immediately gave the alarm of "Indians!" and was for in- 
stant retreat. Potts scoffed at him for being frightened by the 
trampling of a herd of buffaloes. Colter checked his uneasi- 
ness, and paddled forward. They had not gone much further 
when frightful whoops and yells burst forth from each side of 
the river, and several hundred Indians appeared on either 
bank. Signs were made to the unfortunate trappers to come 
on shore. They were obliged to comply. Before they could 
get out of their canoes, a savage seized the rifle belonging to 
Potts. Colter sprang on shore, wrested the weapon from the 
hands of the Indian, and restored it to his companion, who 



ASTORIA. 117 

was still in the canoe, and immediately pushed into the stream. 
There was the sharp twang of a bow, and Potts cried out that 
he was wounded. Colter urged him to come on shore and sub- 
mit, as his only chance for life; but the other knew there was 
no prospect of mercy, and determined to die game. Levelling 
his rifle, he shot one of the savages dead on the spot. The 
next moment he fell himself, pierced with innumerable arrows. 
The vengeance of the savages now turned upon Colter. He 
was stripped naked, and, having some knowledge of the Black- 
foot language, overheard a consultation as to the mode of dis- 
patching Ihm, so as to derive the greatest amusement from his 
death. Some were for setting him up as a mark, and having 
a trial of skill at liis expense. The chief, however, was for 
nobler sport. He seized Colter by the shoulder, and demanded 
if he could run fast. The unfortunate trapper was too well 
acquainted with Indian customs not to comprehend the drift 
of the question. He knew he was to run for his life, to furnish 
a kind of humxm hunt to his persecutors. Though in reality 
he was noted among his brother hunters for swiftness of foot, 
he assured the chief that he was a very bad runner. His 
stratagem gained him some vantage ground. He was led by 
the chief into the prairie, about four hundred yards from the 
main body of savages, and then turned loose to save himself if 
he could. A tremendous yell let him know that the whole 
pack of bloodhounds were off in full cry. Colter flew, rather 
than ran ; he was astonished at his own speed ; but he had six 
miles of prairie to traverse before he should reach the Jeffer- 
son Fork of the Missouri ; how could he hope to hold out such 
a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one 
ajrainst him ! The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear, 
which wounded his naked feet. Still he fled on, dreading each 
moment to hear the twang of a bovv^, and to feel an arrow 
quivering at his heart. He did not even dare to look round, 
lest he should lose an inch of that distance on which his life 
depended. He had ran nearly half way across the plain when 
the sound of pursuit grew somewhat fainter, and he ventured 
to turn his head. The main body of his pursuers were a con- 
siderable distance behind ; several of the fastest runners were 
scattered in the advance ; while a swift-footed warrior, armed 
with a spear, was not more that a hundred yards behind him. 

Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but 
strained himself to such a degree that the blood gushed from 
his mouth and nostrils and streamed down his breast. He 



118 ASTORIA. 

arrived within a mile of the river. The sound of footsteps 
gathered upon him. A glance behind showed his pursuer 
within twenty yards, and j^reparing to launch his spear. 
Stopping short, he turned round and spread out his arms. 
The savage, confounded by this sudden action, attempted to 
stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the very act. His spear stuck 
in the ground, and the shaft broke in his hand. Colter plucked 
up the pointed part, pinned the savage to the earth, and con- 
tinued his flight. The Indians, as they arrived at their slaugh- 
tered companion, stopped to howl over him. Colter made the 
most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of cotton-wood 
bordering the river, dashed through it, and plunged into the 
stream. He swam to a neighboring island, against the upper 
end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as to 
form a natural raft; imder this he dived, and swam below 
water until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between 
the floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed 
a covert several feet above the level of the water. He had 
scarcely drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his 
pursuers on the river bank, whooping and j^elling like so many 
fiends. They plunged in the river, and swam to the raft. The 
heart of Colter almost died within him as he saw them, through 
the chinks of his concealment, passing and repassing, and 
seeking for him in all directions. They at length gave up the 
search, and he began to rejoice in his escape, when the idea 
presented itself that they might set the raft on tire. Here was 
a new source of horrible apprehension, in which he remained 
until nightfall. Fortunately, the idea did not suggest itself to 
the Indians. As soon as it was dark, finding by the silence 
around that his pursuers had departed. Colter dived again and 
came up beyond the raft. He then swam silently down the 
river for a considerable distance, when he landed, and kept on 
ail night, to get as far as possible from this dangerous neigh- 
borhood. 

By daybreak he had gained sufRcient distance to relieve him 
from the terrors of his savage foes ; but now new sources of 
inquietude presented thenselves. He was naked and alone, in 
the midst of an unbounded wilderness; his only chance was to 
reach a trading post of the Missouri Company, situated on a 
branch of the Yellowstone River. Even should he elude his 
pursuers, days must elapse before he could reach this post, 
during which he must traverse immense prairies destitute of 
shade, his naked body exposed to the burning heat of the sun 



ASTORIA. lig 

by day, and the dews and chills of the night season ; and his 
feet lacerated by the thorns of the prickly pear. Though he 
might see game in abundance around him, he had no means 
of killing any for his sustenance, and must depend for food 
upon the roots of the earth. In defiance of these difficulties 
he pushed resolutely forward, guiding himself in his trackless 
course by those signs and indications known only to Indians 
and backwoodsmen ; and after braving dangers and hardships 
enough to break down any spirit but that of a western pioneer, 
arjived safe at the solitary post in question. * 

Such is a sample of the rugged experience w^hich Colter had 
to relate of savage life ; yet, with aU these perils and terrors 
fresh in his recollection, he could not see the present band on 
their way to those regions of danger and adventure, without 
reeling a vehement impulse to join them. A w^estern trapper 
ij like a sailor; past hazards only stimulate him to further 
lisks. The vast prairie is to the one what the ocean is to the 
other, a boundless field of enterprise and exploit. However he 
may have suffered in his last cruise, he is always ready to join 
a new expedition ; and the more adventurous its nature, the 
more attractive is it to his vagrant spirit. 

Nothing seems to have kept Colter from continuing mth the 
party to the shores of the Pacific but the circumstance of his 
having recently married. All the morning he kept with them, 
balancing in liis mind the charms of his bride against those of 
the Eocky Mountains; the former, however prevailed, and 
after a march of several miles, he took a reluctant leave of the 
travellers, and turned his face homeward. 

Continuing their progress up the Missouri, the party en- 
camped, on the evening of the 21st of March, in the neighbor- 
hood of a httle frontier village of French Creoles. Here Pierre 
Dorion met with some of his old comrades, with whom he had 
a long gossip, and returned to the camp with rumors of bloody 
feuds between the Osages and the loways, or Ayaways, Poto- 
watomies, Sioux, and Sawkces. Blood had already been shed, 
and scalps been taken. A war party, three hundred strong, 
were prowling in the neighborhood ; others might be met with 
higher up the river; it behooved the travellers, therefore, to 
be upon their guard against robbery or surprise, for an Indian 
war party on the march is prone to acts of outrage. 

In consequence of this report, which was subsequently con- 



* Bradbui-y. Travels in America, p. 17. 



;|^20 ASTORIA. 

firmed by further intelligence, a guard was kept up at night 
round the encampment, and they all slept on their arms. As 
they were sixteen in number, and well supplied with weapons 
and ammunition, they trusted to be able to give any maraud- 
ing party a v/arm reception. Nothing occurred, however, to 
molest them on their voyage, and on the 8th of April, they 
came in sight of Fort Osage. On their approach tlie flag was 
vhoisted on the fort, and they saluted it by a discharge of fire- 
arms. Within a short distance of the fort was an Osage vil- 
lage, the inhabitants of which, men, women and children, 
thronged down to the water side to witness their landing. 
One of the first persons they met on the river bank was Mr. 
Crooks, who had come down in a boat, with nine men, fror.? 
the winter encampment at Nodowa, to meet them. 

They remained at Fort Osage a part of three days, during 
wliich they were hospitably entertained at the garrison by 
Lieutenant Brownson, who held a temporary command. They 
were regaled also with a war-feast at the village ; the Oeage 
warriors having returned from a successful foray against the 
loways, in which they had taken seven scalps. These were 
paraded on poles about the village, followed by the warriors 
decked out in all their savage ornaments, and hideously painted 
as if for battle. 

By the Osage warriors, Mr. Hunt and his companions were 
again warned to be on their guard in ascending the river, as 
the Sioux tribe meant to lay in wait and attack them. 

On the 10th of April they again embarked, their party being 
now augmented to twenty-six, by the addition of Mr. Crooks 
and his boat's crew. They had not proceeded far, however, 
when there was a great outcry from one of the boats ; it was 
occasioned by a little domestic discipline in the Dorion family. 
The squaw of the worthy interpreter, it appeared, had been so 
delighted with the scalp-dance, and other festivities of the 
Osage village, that she had taken a strong inclination to re- 
main there. This had been as strongly opposed by her lie^'e 
lord, who had compelled her to embark. The good dame had 
remained sulky ever since, whereupon Pierre, seeing no other 
mode of exorcising the evil spirit out of her, and being, per- 
haps, a little inspired by whiskey, had resorted to the Indian 
remedy of the cudgel, and, before his neighbors could interfere, 
had belabored her so soundly that there is no record of her 
having shown any refractory symptoms throughout the re- 
mainder of the expedition. 



ASTORIA. 121 

For a week they continued their voyage, exposed to almost 
incessant rains. The bodies of drowned buffaloes floated past 
them in vast numbers ; many had drifted upon the shore, or 
against the upper ends of the rafts and islands. These had at- 
tracted great flights of turkey-buzzards ; some were banquet- 
ing on the carcasses, others were soaring far aloft in the sky, 
and others were perched on the trees, with their backs to the 
sun, and their wings stretched out to dry, like so many vessels 
in harbor, spreading their sails after a shower. 

The turkey-buzzard (vultur aura, or golden vrdture), when 
on the wing, is one of the most specious and imposing of birds. 
Its flight in the upper regions of the air is really sublime, ex- 
tending its immense wings, and wheeling slowly and majesti- 
cally to and fro, seemmgly without exerting a muscle or flutter- 
ing a feather, but moving by mere volition, and saihng on 
the bosom of the air as a ship upon the ocean. Usurping the 
empyreal realm of the eagle, he assumes for a time the port 
and dignity of that majestic bird, and often is mistaken for 
him by ignorant crawlers upon earth. It is only when he de- 
scends from the clouds to pounce upon carrion that he betrays 
his low propensities, and reveals his caitiff character. Near at 
hand he is a disgusting bird, ragged in phrmage, base in aspect, 
and of loathsome odor. 

On the 17th of Aprfl Islv. Hunt arrived with his party at the 
station near the Nodowa River, where the main body had been 
quartered during the winter. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



The weather continued rainy and ungenial for some days 
after Mr. Hunt's return to Nodowa; yet spring Vv'-as rapidly ad- 
vancing and vegetation was putting forth with all its early 
freshness and beauty. The snakes began to recover from their 
torpor and crawl forth into day, and the neighborhood of the 
wintering house seems to have been much infested with them. 
Mr. Bradbury, in the course of his botanical researches, found 
a surprising number in a half torpid state, under flat stones 
upon the banks which overhung the cantonment, and narrowly 
escaped being struck by a rattlesnake, which started at him 
from a cleft in the rock, but fortunately gave him warning by 
its rattle. 



122 ASTOEIA. 

The pigeons too were filling the woods in vast migratory 
flocks. It is almost incredible to describe the prodigious flights 
of these birds in the western wildernesses. They appear ab- 
solutely in clouds, and move with astonishing velocity, their 
wings making a whistling sound as they fly. The rapid evolu- 
tions of these flocks, wheeling and shifting suddenly as if with 
one mind and one impulse ; the flashing changes of color they 
present, as their backs, their breasts, or the under part of 
their wings are turned to the spectator, are smgularly pleas- 
ing. When they alight, if on the ground, they cover whole 
acres at a time ; if upon trees, the branches often break beneath 
their weight. If suddenly startled while feeding in the midst 
of a forest, the noise they make in getting on the wing is like 
the roar of a cataract or the sound of distant thunder. 

A flight of this kind, like a.n Egyptian flight of locusts, de- 
vours everything that serves for its food as it passes along. So 
great were the numbers in the vicinity of the camp that Mr. 
Bradbury, in the course of a morning's excursion, shot nearly 
three hundred with a fowling-piece. He gives a curious, though 
apparently a faithful, account of the kind of discipline observed 
in these immense flocks, so that each may have a chance of 
picking up food. As the front ranks must meet with the great- 
est abundance, and the rear ranks must have scanty pickings, 
the instant a rank finds itself the hindmost, it rises in the air, 
flies over the whole flock, and takes its place in the advance. 
The next rank follows in its course, and thus the last is con- 
tinually becoming first, and all by turns have a front place at 
the banquet. 

The rains having at length subsided, Mr. Hunt broke up the 
encampment and resumed his course up the Missouri. 

The party now consisted of nearly sixty persons : of whom 
five were partners ; one, John Reed, was a clerk ; forty were 
Canadian " voyageurs," or ^^ engages," and there were several 
hunters. They embarked in four boats, one of which was of a 
large size, mounting a swiv^el and tw^o howitzers. All were 
furnished with masts and sails, to be used when the wind was 
sufficiently favorable and strong to overpower the current of 
the river. Such was the case for the first four or five days, 
when they were wafted steadily up the stream by a strong 
southeaster. 

Their encampments at night v^^ere often pleasant and pictu- 
resque : on some beautitul bank beneath spreading trees, which 
afforded them shelter and fuel. The tents were pitched, the 



ASTORIA. 123 

fires made and the meals prepared by the voyageurs, and 
many a story was told, and joke passed, and song sung, round 
the evening fire. All, however, were asleep at an early hour. 
Some under the tents, others wrapped in blankets before the 
fire, or beneath the trees; and some few in the boats and 
canoes. 

On the 28th they brealifasted on one of the islands which lie 
at the mouth of the Nebraska or Platte Eiver, the largest tribu- 
tary of the Missouri, and about six hundred miles above its 
confluence with the Mississippi. This broad but shallow stream 
flows for an immense distance through a wide and verdant val- 
ley scooped out of boundless prairies. It draws its main sup- 
plies, by several forks or branches, from the Rocky Mountains. 
The mouth of this river is established as the dividing point be- 
tween the upper and lower Missouri ; and the earlier voyagers 
in their toilsome ascent, before the introduction of steamboats, 
considered one half of their labors accomplished when they 
reached this place. The passing of the mouth of the Nebraska, 
therefore, was equivalent among boatmen to the crossing of 
the line among sailors, and was celebrated with like ceremoni- 
als of a rough and waggish nature, practised upon the unini- 
tiated; among which was the old nautical joke of shaving. 
The river deities, however, like those of the sea, were to be pro 
pitiated by a bribe, and the infliction of these rude honors to 
be parried by a treat to the adepts. 

At the mouth of the Nebraska new signs were met with of 
war parties which had recently been in the vicinity. There 
was the fraine of a skin canoe, in which the warriors had 
traversed the river. At night, also, the lurid reflection of 
immense fires hung in the sky, showing the conflagration of 
great tracts of the prairies. Such fires not being made by 
hunters so late in the season, it twis supposed they were caused 
by some wandering war parties. These often take the precau- 
tion to set the prairies on fire behind thein to conceal their 
traces from their enemies. Tliis is chiefly done when the 
party has been unsuccessful, and is on the retreat and appre- 
hensive of pursuit. At such time it is not safe even for 
friends to fall in with them, as they are apt to be in savage 
humor, and disposed to vent their spleen in capricious out- 
rage. These signs, therefore, of a band of marauders on the 
prowl, called for some degree of vigilance on the j^art of the 
travellers. 

After passing the Nebraska, the party halted for part of two 



124 ASTOlilA. 

days on the bank of the river, a little above Papillion Creek, 
to supply themselves with a stock of oars and poles from the 
tough wood of the ash, which is not met with higher up the 
Missouri. While the voyageurs were thus occupied, the 
naturalists rambled over the adjacent country to collect 
plants. From the summit of a range of bluffs on the opposite 
side of the river, about two hundred and fifty feet high, they 
'had one of those vast and magnificent prospects which some- 
times unfold themselves in these boundless regions. Below 
them Avas the valley of the Missouri, about seven miles in 
breadth, clad in the fresh verdure of spring ; enamelled with 
flowers and interspersed with clumps and groves of noble trees, 
between which the mighty river poured its turbulent and tur- 
bid stream. The interior of the country presented a singular 
scene; the immense waste being broken up by innumerable 
green hills, not above eighty feet in height, but extremely 
steep, and acutely pointed at their summits. A long hue of 
bluffs extended for upward of thirty miles, parallel to the JMis- 
souri, with a shallow lake stretching along their base, which 
had evidently once formed a bed of the river. The surface of 
this lake was covered with aquatic plants, on the broad leaves 
of which numbers of water-snakes, drawn forth by the genial 
warmth of spring, were basking in the sunshine. 

On the 2d of May, at the usual hour of embarking, the 
camp was thrown into some confusion by two of the hunters, 
named Harrington, exiDressing their intention to abandon the 
expedition and return home. One of these had joined the 
party in the preceding autumn, having been hunting for two 
years on the Missouri; the other had engaged at St. Louis, in 
the following March, and had come up from thence with Mr. 
Hunt. He now declared that he had enlisted merely for the 
purpose of following his brother, and persuading him to re- 
turn; having been enjoined to do so by his mother, whoso 
anxiety had been awakened by the idea of his going on such a 
wild and distant expedition. 

The loss of two stark hunters and prime riflemen was a seri- 
ous affair to the party, for they were approaching the region 
where they might expect hostilities from the Sioux ; indeed, 
throughout the whole of their perilous journey, the services of 
such men would be all important, for little reliance was to be 
placed upon the valor of the Canadians in case of attack. Mr. 
Hunt endeavored by arguments, expostulations, and entrea- 
ties, to shake the determination of the two brothers. He 



ASTORIA. 125 

represented to them that they were between six and seven 
hundred miles above the mouth of the Missouri; that they 
would have four hundred miles to go before they could reach 
the habitation of a white man, throughout which they would 
be exposed to ail kinds of risks ; since he declared, if they per- 
sisted in abandoning him and breaking their faith, he would 
not furnish them with a single round of ammunition. All was 
in vain ; they obstinately persisted in their resolution ; where- 
upon Mr. Hunt, partly incited by indignation, partly by the 
policy of deterring others from desertion, put his threat in 
execution, and left them to find their way back to the settle- 
ments without, as he sunposed, a single bullet or charge of 
powder. 

The boats now continued their slow and toilsome course for 
several days, against the current of the river. The late signs 
of roaming war parties caused a vigilant watch to be kept up 
at night when the crews encamped on shore; nor was this 
vigilance superfluous ; for on the night of the seventh instant 
there was a wild and fearful yell, and eleven Sioux warriors, 
stark naked, with tomahawks in their hands, rushed into the 
camp. They were instantly surrounded and seized, where- 
upon their leader ca,lled out to his followers to desist from any 
violence, and pretended to be perfectly pacific in his inten- 
tions. It proved, however, that they were a part of the war 
party, the skeleton of whose canoe had beer seen at the mouth 
of the river Platte, and the reflection of whose fires had been 
descried in the air. They had been disappointed or defeated 
in their foray, and in their rage and mortification these eleven 
warriors had "devoted their clothes to the medicine." This is 
a desperate act of Indian bi'aves when foiled in war, and in 
dread of scofis and sneers. In such case they sometimes throw 
off their clothes and ornaments, devote themselves to the Great 
Spirit, and attempt some reckless exploit with which to cover 
their disgrace. Woe to any defenceless party of white men 
that may then fall in their way ! 

Such was the explanation given by Pierre Dorion, the half- 
breed interpreter, of this wild intrusion into the camp ; and 
the party were so exasperated when apprised of the sanguinary 
intentions of the prisoners, that they were for shooting them 
on the spot. Mr. Hunt, however, exerted his usual modera- 
tion and humanity, and ordered that they should be conveyed 
across the river in one of the boats, threatening them, how- 
ever, with certain death, if ajrain caught in any hostile act. 



126 ASTORIA. 

On the loth of May the party arrived at the Omaha (pro- 
nounced OmaAvhaw) village, about eight hundred and thirty 
miles above the mouth of the Missouri, and encamped in its 
neighborhood. The village was situated under a hill on the 
bank of the river, and consisted of about eighty lodges. These 
were of a circular and conical form, and about sixteen feet in 
diameter; being mere tents of dressed buffalo skins, sewed 
together and stretched on long poles, inclined toward each 
other so as to cross at about half their height. Thus the naked 
tops of the poles diverge in such a manner that, if they wc re 
covered with skins like the lower ends, the tent woidd be 
shaped like an hour-glass, and jDresent the appearance of one 
cone inverted on the apex of another. 

The forms of Indian lodges are worthy of attention, each 
tribe having a different mode of shaping and arranging them, 
so that it is easy to tell, on seeing a lodge or an encampment 
at a distance, to what tribe the inhabitants belong. The ex- 
terior of the Omaha lodges have often a gay and fanciful 
appearance, being painted with undulating bands of red or 
yellow, or decorated with rude figures of horses, deer, and 
buffaloes, and with human faces, painted like full moons, four 
and five feet broad. 

The Omahas were once one of the numerous and powerful 
tribes of the prairies, vying in warlike might and prowess 
with the Sioux, the Pawnees, the Sauks, the Konzas, and the 
latans. Their wars with the Sioux, however, had thinned 
their ranks, and the small-pox in 1802 had swept off two thirds 
of their n\nnber. . At the time of Mr. Hunt's visit they stiU 
boasted about two hundred waiTiors and hunters, but they are 
now fast melting away, and before long will be numbered 
among those extinguished nations of the west that exist but in 
tradition. 

In his correspondence with Mr. Astor, from this point of his 
journey, Mr. Hunt gives a sad account of the Indian tribes 
bordering on the river. They were in continual war with 
each other, and their wars were of the most harassmg kind ; 
consisting, not merely of main conflicts and expeditions of 
moment, involving the sackings, burnings and massacres of 
towns and villages, but of individual acts of treachery, 
iTiurder, and cold-blooded cruelty; or of vaunting and fool- 
hardy exploits of single warriors, either to avenge some per- 
sonal wrong, or gain the vainglorious trophy of a scalp. The 
lonely hunter, the wandering wayfarer, the poor squaw cut- 



ASTORIA. 127 

ting wood or gathering corn, was liable to be surprised and 
slaughtered. In this way tribes were either swept away at 
once, or gradually thinned out, and savage life was surrounded 
with constant horrors and alarms. That the race of red men 
should diminish from year to year, and so few should siu'vive 
of the numerous nations which evidently once peopled the 
vast regions of the west, is nothing surprising; it is rather 
matter of surprise that so many should survive ; for the exist- 
ence of a savage in these parts seems little better than a pro- 
longed and all-besetting death. It is, in fact, a caricature of 
the boasted romance of feudal times; chivalry in its native 
and uncultured state, and knight-errantry run wild. 

In their more prosperous days, the Omahas looked upon 
themselves as the most powerful and perfect of human beings, 
and considered all created things as made for their peculiar use 
and benefit. It is this tribe of whose chief, the famous Wash- 
ing-guh-sah-ba, or Blackbird, such savage and romantic stories 
are told. He had died about ten years previous to the arrival 
of Mr. Hunt's party, but his name was still mentioned with 
awe by Ms people. He was one of the first among the Indian 
chiefs on the Missouri to deal with the white traders, and 
showed gi'eat sagacity in levying his royal dues. When a 
trader arrived in his viUage, he caused all his goods to be 
brought into his lodge and opened. From these he selected 
whatever suited his sovereign pleasure— blankets, tobacco, 
whiskey, jDOwder, ball, beads, and red paint— and laid the 
articles on one side, without deigning to give any compensa- 
tion. Then calling to him his herald or crier, he would order 
him to mount on top of the lodge and summon all the tribe to 
bring in their peltries, and trade with the wliite man. The 
lodge would soon be crowded with Indians bringing bear, 
beaver, otter, and other skins. No one was allowed to dispute 
the prices fixed by the white trader upon his articles, who 
took care to indemnify Iiimself five times over for the goods 
set apart by the chief. In this way the Blackbird enriched 
himself, and enriched the white men, and became exceedingly 
popular among the traders of the Missouri. His people, how- 
ever, were not equally satisfied by a regulation of trade which 
worked so manifestly against them, and began to show signs 
of discontent. Upon this a crafty and unprincipled trader 
revealed a secret to the Blackbird, by which he might acquire 
unbou: .ded sway over his ignorant and superstitious subjects. 
He instructed him in the poisonous qualities of arsenic, and. 



128 ASTORIA. 

furnished him with an ample supply of that baneful drug. 
From this time the Blackbird seemed endowed with super- 
natural powers, to possess the gift of prophecy, and to hold 
the disposal of life and death within his hands. Woe to any 
one who questioned his authority, or dared to dispute his com- 
mands ! The Blackbird prophesied his death within a certain 
time, and he had the secret means of verifying his prophecy. 
Within the fated period the offender was smitten with strange 
and sudden disease, and perished from the face of the earth. 
E\^ery one stood aghast at these multiplied examples of his 
superhuman might, and dreaded to displease so omnipotent 
and vindictive a being; an 1 tho Blackbird enjoyed a wide and 
undisputed sway. 

It was not, however, by terror alone that he ruled his 
people ; he was a warrior of the first order, and his exploits in 
arms were the theme of young and old. His career had begun 
by hardships, having been taken prisoner by the Sioux, in 
early youth. Under his command the Omahas obtained great 
character for military prowess, nor did he permit an insult or 
injury to one of his tribe to pass unrevenged. The Pawnee 
republicans had inflicted a gross indignity on a fa^^orite and 
distinguished Omaha brave. The Blackbird assembled his 
warriors, led them against the Pawnee town, attacked it with 
irresistible fury, slaughtered a great number of its inhabitants, 
and burnt it to the ground. He waged fierce and bloody war 
against the Ottoes for many years, until peace was effected 
between them by the mediation of the whites. Fearless in 
battle, and fond of signalizing himself, he dazzled his followers 
by daring acts. In attacking a Kanza village, he rode singly 
round it, loading and discharging his rifle at the inhabitants as 
he galloped past them. He kept up in war the same idea of 
mysterious and supernatural power. At one time, when pur- 
suing a war-party, by their tracks across the prairies, he 
repeatedly discharged his rifle into the prints made by tlieir 
feet and by the hoofs of their horses, assuring his followers 
that he would thereby cripple the fugitives, so that they would 
easily be overtaken. He in fact did overtake them, and de- 
stroyed them almost to a man ; and his victory was considered 
miraculous, both by friend and foe. By these and similar ex- 
ploits, he made himself the pride and boast of his people, and 
became popular among them, notwithstanding his death- 
denouncing fiat. 

With all his savage and terrific qualities, he was sensible of 



ASTORIA. 129 

tli8 power of female beauty, and capable of love. A war party 
of the Poncas had made a foray into the lands of the Omalias, 
and carried off a number of women and horses. The Black- 
bird was roused to fury, and took the field with all his braves, 
s^vearing to "eat up the Ponca nation" — the Indian threat of 
exterminating war. The Poncas, sorely pressed, took refuge 
behind a rude bulwark of earth ; but the Blackbird kept u}) so 
gpolling a lire that he seemed likely to execute his menacCo In 
their extremity they sent forth a herald, bearing the . calumet 
or pipe of peace, but he was shot down by order of the Black- 
bird. Another herald was sent forth in similar guise, but he 
shared a like fate. The Ponca chief then, as a last hope, 
arrayed his beautiful daughter in her finest ornaments, and 
sent her forth with a calumet, to sue for peace. The charms of 
the Indian maid touched the stern heart of the Blackbird; he 
accepted the pipe at her hand, smoked it, and from that time 
a peace took place between the Poncas and the Omahas. 

This beautiful damsel, in all probability, was the favorite 
wife whose fate makes so tragic an incident in the story of the 
Blackbird. Her youth and beauty had gained an absolute 
sway over his rugged heart, so that he distinguished her above 
all his other wives. The hp.bitual gratification of his vindictive 
impulses, however, had taken away from hun all mastery 
over his passions, and rendered him liable to the most furious 
transports of rage. In one of these his beautiful wife had the 
misfortune to offend him, when suddenly drawing his knife, 
he laid her dead at his feet with a single blow. 

In an instant his frenzy was at an end. He gazed for a time 
in mute bewilderment upon his victim; then drawing his 
buffalo robe over his head, he sat down beside the corpse, and 
remained brooding over his crime and his loss. Three days 
elapsed, yet the chief continued silent and motionless ; tasting 
no food, and apparently sleepless. It was apprehended that 
he intended to starve himself to death ; his people approached 
him in trembling awe, and entreated him once more to un- 
cover his face and be comforted ; but he remained unmoved. 
Afc length one of his warriors brought in a small child, and 
laying it on the ground, placed the foot of the Blackbird upon 
its neck. The heart of the gloomy savage was touched by this 
appeal; he threw aside his robe; made an harangue upon what 
ho had done; and from that time forv/ard seemed to have 
thrown the load of grief and remorse from his mind. 

He still retained his fatal and mysterious secret, and with it 



;130 ASTORIA. 

his terrific power; but, though able to deal death to his ene- 
mies, he could not avert it from himself or his friends. In 
1802 the small-pox, that dreadful pestilence, which swept over 
the land like a fire over the prairie, made its apj^earance in the 
village of the Omahas. The poor savages saw with dismay the 
ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, 
and wliich set the skill and experience of their conjurors and 
medicine men at defiance. In a little while tv/o thirds of the 
population were swept from the face of the earth, and the 
doom of the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors 
was at an end; they became wild and desperate; some set 
fire to the village as a last means of checking the pestilence; 
others, in a frenzy of despair put tlieir wives and children to 
death, that they might be spared the agonies of an inevitable 
disease, and that they might all go to some better country. 

When the general horror and disma.y was at its height, the 
Blackbird himself was struck down with the malady. The poor 
savages, when they saw their chief in danger, forgot their 
own miseries, and surrounded his dying bed. His dominant 
spirit, and his love for the white men, were evinced in his latest 
breath, with which he designated his place of sepulture. It 
was to be on a hill or promontory, upward of four hundred feet 
in height, overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from 
whence he had been accustomed to watch for the barks of the 
white men. The Missouri washes the base of the promontory, 
nnd after winding and doubling in many links and mazes in 
the plain below, returns to within nine hundred yards of its 
starting place; so that for thirty miles navigating with sail and 
oar, the voyager finds himself continually near to this singidar 
j)romontory as if spell-bound. 

It was the dying command of the Blackbird that his tomb 
should be upon the summit of this hill, in which he should be 
interred, seated on his favorite horse, that he might over- 
look his ancient domain, and behold the barks of the white 
men as they came up the river to trade with his people. 

His dying orders were faithfully obeyed. His corpse was 
placed astride of his war-steed, and a mound raised over them 
on the summit of the hill. On top of the mound was erected a 
staff, from which fluttered the banner of the chieftain, and the 
scalps that he had taken in battle. When the expedition 
under Mr. Hunt visited that part of the country, the staff still 
remained with the fragments of the banner; and the super- 
stitious rite of placing food from time to time on the mound, 



ASTORIA. 131 

for the use of the deceased, was still observed by the Omahas. 
That rite has since fallen into disuse, for the tribe itself is 
almost extinct. Yet the hill of the Blackbird continues an ob- 
ject of veneration to the wandering salvage, and a landmark 
to the voyager of the Missouri ; and as the civilized traveller 
comes within sight of its speii-bound crest, the mound is 
pointed out to him from afar, which still incloses the grim 
skeletons of the Indian warrior and his horse. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



While Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the 
village of the Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton 
Ahna tribe arrived, bringing unpleasant intelligence. They 
reported that certain bands of the Sioux Tetons, who inhabited 
a region many leagues further up the Missouri, were near at 
hand, awaiting the approach of the party, with the avowed 
intent of opposing their progress. 

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the 
Missouri, who considered the well-freighted bark of the Ameri- 
can trader fair game. They had their own traffic with the 
British merchants of the northwest, who brought them regular 
supplies of merchandise by way of the river St. Peter. Being 
thus independent of the Missouri traders for their supplies 
they kept no terms with them, but plundered them whenever 
they had an opportunity. It has been insinuated that they 
were prompted to these outrages by the British merchants, 
who wished to keep off all rivals in the Indian trade; but 
others allege another motive, and one savoring of a deeper 
policy. The Sioux, by their intercourse with the British 
traders, had acquired the use of firearms, which had given 
them vast superiority over other tribes higher up the Missouri. 
They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for the 
upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly 
advanced prices, with goods derived from the white men. The 
Sioux, therefore, saw with jealousy the American traders 
pushing their way up the iNlissouri ; foreseeing that the upper 
tribes would thus be relieved from all dependence on them for 
supplies ; nay, what was v/orse, would be furnished with fire- 
arms, and elevated into formidable rivals. 



132 ASTORIA. 

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and 
Mr. M'Lella,n had been interrupted in a trading voyage by 
these ruffians of the river, and, as it is in some degree con- 
nected with circumstances hereafter to . be related, we shall 
specify it more particularly. 

About two years before the time of which we are treating, 
Crooks and M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a 
party of about forty men, bound on one of their trading expe- 
ditions to the upper tribes. In one of the bends of the river, 
where the channel made a deep curve imder impending banks, 
they suddenly heard yells and shouts above them, and beheld 
the cliffs overhead covered with armed savages. It was a 
band of Sioux warriors, upward of six hundred strong. They 
brandished their weapons in a menacing manner, and ordered 
the boats to turn back and land lower down the river. There 
was no disputing these commands, for they had the power to 
shower destruction wpon the wdiite men, without risk to them- 
selves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore, turned back with 
feigned alacrity; and, landing, had an interview with the 
Sioux. The latter forbade them, under pain of exterminating 
hostility, from attempting to proceed up the river, but offered 
to trade peacefully with them if they would halt vvdiere they 
were. The party, being principally composed of voyageurs, 
was too w^eak to contend with so superior a force, and one so 
easily augmented ; they pretended, therefore, to comply cheer- 
fully with their arbitrary dictation, and immediately proceeded 
to cut down trees and erect a trading house. The warrior 
band departed for their village, which was about twenty miles 
distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or eight of 
their number, however, to keep watch upon the white men, 
and scouts were continually passing to and fro wdth intelli- 
gence. 

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute hin 
voyage without the danger of having his boats plundered, and 
a great part of his men massacred; he determined, however, 
not to be entirely frustrated in the objects of his expedition. 
While he continued, therefore, with great appai'ent earnestne'^s 
and assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he dis- 
patched the hunters and trappers of his party in a ca.noe, to 
make their way up the river to the original place of destina- 
tion, there to busy themselves in trapping and collecting pel- 
tries, and to await his arrival at some future period. 

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend 



ASTORIA. 133 

beyond the hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly 
broke up his feigned trading establishment, embarked his men 
and effects, and after giving the astonished rear-guard of 
savages a galling and indignant message to take to their 
countrymen, pushed down the river with all speed, sparing 
neither oar nor paddle, day nor night, until fairly beyond the 
swoop of these river hawks. 

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lel- 
lan at this mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was 
the information that a rival trader was at the bottom of it ; the 
Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to this outrage by Mr. 
Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the Missouri 
Fur Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether 
true or false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he 
swore, if ever he fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he 
would shot him on the spot ; a mode of redress perfectly in 
unison with the character of the man, and the code of honor 
prevalent beyond the frontier. 

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent 
conduct of the Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had occa- 
sioned, those freebooters had been no less indignant at being 
outwitted by the white men, and disappointed of their antici- 
pated gains, and it was apprehended they would be particu- 
larly hostile against the present expedition, when they should 
learn that these gentlemen were engaged in it. 

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as 
possible from the Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become 
intimidated ; it was impossible, however, to prevent the rumors 
brought by the Indians from leaking out, and they became 
subjects of gossiping and exaggeration. The chief of the 
Omahas, too, on returning from a hunting excursion, reported 
that two men had been killed some distance above by a band 
of Sioux. This added to the fears that already began to be 
excited. The voyageurs pictured to themselves bands of fierce 
warriors stationed along each bank of the river, by whom 
they would be exposed to be shot down in their boats ; or lurk- 
ing hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre 
them in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to 
return, rather than fight their way , and, in. a manner, run the 
gauntlet through the country of these piratical marauders. In 
fact, three men deserted while at this village. Luckily, their 
place was supplied by three others who happened to be there, 
and who were prevailed on to join the expedition by promises 



134 ASTORIA. 

of liberal pay, and by being fitted out and equipped in com- 
plete style. 

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his 
people, arising at times almost to m^utiny, and the occasional 
desertions which took place while thus among friendly tribes, 
and within reach of the frontiers, added greatly to the 
anxieties of Mr. Hunt, and rendered him eager to press for- 
ward and leave a hostile tract behind him, so that it would be 
as perilous to return as to keep on, and no one Avould dare to 
desert. 

Accordingly on the 15th of May he departed from the vil- 
lage of the Omahas and set forward toward the country of 
the formidable Sioux Tetons. For the first five days they had 
a fair and fresh breeze, and the boats made good progress. 
The wind then came ahead, and the river beginning to rise, 
and to increase in rapidity, betokened the commencement of 
the annual flood, caused by the melting of the snow on the 
Eocky Mountains, and the vernal rains of the upper prairies. 

As they were now entering a region where foes might be 
lying in wait on either bank, it was determined, in hunting for 
game, to confine themselves principally to the islands, which 
sometimes extend to considerable length, and are beautifully 
wooded, affording abundant pasturage and shade. On one of 
these they killed three buffaloes and two elks, and, halting on 
the edge of a beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's re- 
past. They had not long resumed their boats and pulled along 
the river banks, when they descried a canoe approaching, 
navigated by two men, whom, to their surprise, they ascer- 
tained to be white men. They proved to be two of those 
strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness, the trappers. 
Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander Carson. 
They had been for two years past hunting and trapping near 
the head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for thousands 
of miles in a cockle-shell down a turbulent stream, through re- 
gions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and un- 
concerned as if navigating securely in the midst of civilization. 

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and daunt- 
less hunters was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. 
They needed but little persuasion. The wilderness is the home 
of the trapper; like the sailor, he cares but little to which point 
of the compass he steers ; and Jones and Carson readily aban- 
doned their voyage to St. Louis and turned their faces toAvard 
the Eocky Mountains and the Pacific. 



ASTORIA. 1.35 

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttal!, wlio had 
joined the expedition at St. Louis still accompanied it, and pur- 
sued their researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall oeems to 
have been exclusively devoted to his scientific pursuits. lie 
was a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was awakened 
at beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the 
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe 01 
imknown flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal timcs^ 
or for any temporary purpose, he would spring on shoic, 
and set out on a hunt for new specimens. Every plant or 
flower of a rare or unknown species was eagerly seized as 0. 
prize. Delighted with the treasures sx-)reading themselves out 
before him, he went groping and stumbling along among a 
wilderness of sweets, forgetful of everything but his iinmediate 
pursuit, and had often to be sought after when the boats were 
about to resume their course. At such times he would be 
found far off in the prairies, or up the course of some petty 
stream, laden with plants of all kinds. 

The Canadian voyageurs who are a class of people that know 
nothing out of their immediate line, and with constitutional 
levity make a jest of anything they cannot understand, were 
extremely puzzled by this passion for collecting what they 
considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the worthy 
botanist coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and 
treasuring them up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, 
they used to luake merry among themselves at his expense, 
regarding him as some whimsical kind of madman. 

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and 
nombined the hunter a/^d sportsman with the naturalist. He 
took his rifle or his fot'^Kng-piece with him in his geological re- 
searches, conformed to the hardy and rup.ged habits of the men 
around him, and of Cf^tnrse gained favor in their eyes. He had 
a strong relish for lAcident and adventure, was curious in ob- 
serving savage manners and savage life, and ready to join any 
hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition 
was proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood, he could 
not cheek his propensity to ramble. Having observed, on the 
evening of the 22d of May, that the river ahea,d made a great 
bend v/hich would take up the navigation of the folio vvdng day, 
he determined to i^rofit by the circumstance. On the morning 
of the ^3d, therefore, instead of embarking, he filled his shot- 
pouch with parched corn, for provisions, Pvud set off to cross 
the nock on foot and meet the boats in the afternoon at the 



;136 ASTOniA. 

opposite side of the bend. Mr. Hunt felt uneasy at his ventur- 
ing thus alone, and reminded him that ho was in an enemy's 
coimtry; but Mr. Bradbmy made hght of the danger, and 
started off cheerily upon his ramble. His day was passed 
pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract, making botanical 
and geological researches, and observing the habits of an exten- 
, sive village of prauie dogs, at which he made several ineffectual 
shots, without considering the risk he rmi of attracting the 
attention of any savages that might be lurking in the neighbor- 
hood. In fact he had totally forgotten the Sioux Tetons, and 
all the other perils of the country, when, about the middle of 
the afternoon, as he stood neaj:- the river bank, and was looking 
out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder- 
Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage with a 
bow bent, and the arrow pointed at his breast. In an instant 
his gun was levelled and his hand upon the lock. The Indian 
drew his bov7 still further, but forbore to launch the shaft. Mr. 
Bradburjr, with admirable presence of mind, reflected that the 
savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him without 
giving liim a chance of defence ; he paused, therefore, and held 
out Ills hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and de- 
manded in the Osa,ge language whether he was a Big Knife, or 
American. He answered in the affirmative, and inquired 
whether the other were a Sioux. To his gi-eat relief he found 
that he was a Ponca. By this time two other Indians came 
running up, and all three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and 
seemed disposed to compel him to go off with them am.ong the 
hills. He resisted, and sitting dovxai on a sand-hill, contrived 
to amuse them with a pocket compass. "When the novelty of 
this was exhausted, they again seized him, but he now pro- 
duced a small microscope. Tliis new wonder again fixed the 
attention of the savages, who have far more curiosity than it 
has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged one 
of them suddenly leaped up and gave a warwhoop. The hand of 
the hardy naturalist was again on his gim, and he was pro- 
pared to make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river 
and revealed the true cause of his yell. It was the mast of one 
of the boats appearing above the low willows which bordered 
the stream. Mr. Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by the sight. 
Tlie Indians on their part now showed cigns of apprehension, 
and were disposed to run away ; but he assured them of good 
treatment and som-ething to drink if they Avould accompany 



ASTORIA. 137 

nim on board of the boats. Tliey lingered for a time, but dis- 
a,ppeared before the boats came to land. 

On the following morning they appeared at the camp accom- 
panied by several of their tribe. With them came also a white 
man, who announced liimself as a messenger bearing missives 
for Mr. Hunt. In fact he brought a letter from Mr. Manuel 
Lisa, partner and agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As 
has already been mentioned, this gentleman was going in 
search of Mr. Henry and his party, who had been dislodged 
from the forks of the Missouri by the Blackfeet Indians, and 
had shifted his post somewhere beyond the Eocky Mountains. 
Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after Mr. Hunt, and 
having heard of the hostile intentions of the Sioux, had made 
the greatest exertions to overtake liim, that they might pass 
through the dangerous part of the river together. He had 
twenty stout oarsman in his service, and they plied their oars 
so vigorously that he had reached the Omaha village just four 
days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he dis- 
patched the messenger in question, tiiisting to his overtaking 
the barges as they toiled up against the stream, and were de- 
layed by the windings of the river. The purport of his letter 
was to entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could come up with 
him, that they might unite their forces and be a protection to 
each other in.their perilous course through the country of the 
Sioux. In fact, as it was afterward ascertained, Lisa was 
apprehensive that Mr. Hunt would do him some ill office with 
the Sioux bands, securing his own passage through their coun- 
try by pretending that he with whom they were a,ccustomed to 
trade was on his way to them with a plentiful supply of goods. 
He feared, too, that Crooks and M'Lellan would take this op- 
portunity to retort upon him the perfidy which they accused 
him of having used, two years previously, among these very 
Sioux. In this respect, however, he did them signal injustice. 
There was no such thing as covert design or treachery in their 
thought ; but M'Lellan, when he heard that Lisa was on Iiis 
way up the river, renewed his open threat of shooting him tho 
moment he met him on Indian la.nd. 

Jhe representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan ot the 
treachery they had experienced, or fancied, on the part of 
Lisa, had great vv^eight with Mr. Hunt, especially when he 
recollected the obstacles that had been thrown in his own 
way by that gentleman at St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, 
the fair dealing of Lisa, and feared that, should they enter the 



138 ASTORIA. 

Sioux country together, the latter might make use of his in- 
fluence with that tribe, as he had in the case of Crooks and 
M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose his progress up the 
river. 

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile 
Lisa, assuring him that he would wait for him at the Poncas 
village, which was but a little distance in advance; but no 
sooner had the messenger departed, than he pushed forward 
with all diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure a 
supply of dried buffalo meat^ and nastening to leave the other 
party as far Dehind as possible, thinking there was less to be 
apprehended from the open hostility of Indian foes th?>n from 
the quiet strategy of an Indian trader. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

It was about noon when the party left the Poncas village, 
about a league beyond which tKey passed the mouth of the 
Quicourt, or Rapid River (called, in the original French, Z' Eau 
Qui Court). After having proceeded f^ome distance further, 
they landed, and encamped for the night. In the evening 
camp the voyageurs gossiped, as usual, over the events of the 
day, and especially over intelligence picked up among the Pon- 
cas. These Indians had confirmed the previous reports of the 
hostile intentions of the Sioux, and had assured them that five 
tribes, or bands, of that fierce nation were actually assembled 
higher up the river, and waiting to cut them off. This even- 
ing gossip, and the terrific stories of Indian warfare to which 
it gave rise, produced a strong effect upon the imaginations of 
the irresolute, and in the morning it was discovered that the 
two men who had joined the party at the Omaha village, and 
been so bounteously fitted out, had deserted in the course of 
the night, carrying with them all their equipments. As it was 
known that one of them could not swim, it was hoped that the 
banks of the Quicourt River would bring them to a halt. A 
general pursuit was therefore instituted, but without success. 

On the following morning (May 26th), as they were all on 
shore, breakfasting on one of the beautiful banks of the river, 
they observed two canoes descending along the opposite side. 
By the aid of spy-glasses they observed that there were two 



ASTORIA. 139 

white men in one of the canoes, and one in the other. A gun 
was discharged, which called the attention of the voyagers, 
who crossed over. They proved to be three Kentucky hunters, 
of the true "dreadnought " stamp. Their names were Edward 
Robinson, John Hoback, and Jacob Rizner. Robinson was a 
veteran backwoodsman, sixty-six years of age. He had been 
one of the first settlers of Kentucky, and engaged in many of 
the conflicts of the Indians on " The Bloody Ground." In one 
of these battles he had been scalped, and he still wore a hand- 
kerchief bound round his head to protect the part. These men 
had passed several years in the upper wilderness. They had 
been in the service of the Missouri Company under Mr. Henry, 
and had crossed the Rocky Mountains with liim in the preced- 
ing year, when driven from his post on the Missouri by the 
hostilities of the Blackfeet. After crossing the mountains, Mr. 
Henry had established MmseK on one of the head branches of 
the Columbia River. There they had remained with Mm for 
some months, hunting and trapping, until, having satisfied 
their wandering propensities, they felt disposed to return to 
the families and comfortable homes which they had left in 
Kentucky. They had accordingly made their way back across 
the mountains and dov/n the rivers, and were in full career for 
St. Louis, when thus suddenly interrupted. The sight of a 
powerful party of traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, 
well armed and equipped, furnished at all points, in high 
health and spirits, and banqueting lustily on the green margin 
of the river, was a spectacle equally stimulating to these vet- 
eran backwoodsmen with the glorious array of a campaigning 
army to an old soldier ; but when they learned the grand scope 
and extent of the enterprise in hand, it was irresistible : homes 
and families and all the charms of green Kentucky vanished 
from their thoughts ; they cPvSt loose their canoes to drift dov»m 
the stream, and joyfully enlisted in the band of adventurers. 
They engaged on similar terms with some of the other hunt- 
ers. The company was to fit them out, and keep them sup- 
plied with the requisite equipments and munitions, and they 
were to yield one half of the produce of their hunting and 
trapping. 

The addition of three such staunch recruits was extremely 
acceptable at this dangerous part of the river. The knowledge 
of the country which they had acquired, also, in their journeys 
and hunting excursions along the rivers and among the Rocky 
Mountains, vv^as all important ; in fact, the information derived 



140 ASTORIA. 

from them induced Mr. Hunt to alter his future course. He 
had hitherto intended to proceed by the route taken by Lewis 
and Clark in their famous exploring expedition, ascending the 
Missouri to its forks, and thence going, by land, across the 
mountains. These men informed him, however, that on taking 
that course he would have to pass through the country mfested 
by the savage tribe of the Blackfeet, and would be exposed to 
their hostilities ; they being, as has already been observed, ex 
asperated to deadly animosity against the whites, on account of 
the death of one of their tribe by the hands of Captain Lewis. 
They advised him rather to pursue a route more to the south 
ward, being the same by which they had returned. This would 
carry them over the mountains about where the head- waters 
of the Platte and the Yellowstone take their rise, at a place 
much more easy and practicable than that where Lewis and 
Clark had crossed. In pursuing this course, also, he would 
pass through a country abounding with game, where he would 
have a better chance of procuring a constant supply of provi- 
sions than by the other route, and would run less risk of moles- 
tation from the Blackfeet. Should he adopt this advice, it 
would be better for hiixi to abandon the river at the Aricara 
town, at which he would arrive in the course of a few days. 
As the Indians at that town possessed horses in abundance, he 
might purchase a sufficient number of them for his great 
journey overland, which would commence at that place. 

After reflecting on this advice, and consulting v^ith his 
associates, Mr. Hunt came to the determination to follow the 
route thus pointed out, in which the hunters engaged to pilot 
him. 

The party continued their voyage with delightful May 
weather. The prairies bordering on the river vv^ere gayly 
painted with innumerable flowers, exhibiting the motley con- 
fusion of colors of a Turkey carpet. The beautiful islands 
also, on which they occasionally halted, presented the appear- 
ance of mingled grove and garden. The trees were often 
covered with clambering grape-vines in blossom, which per- 
fumed the air. Between the stately masses of the groves were 
grassy lawns and glades, studded v/ith flowers, or interspersed 
with rose-bushes in full bloom. These islands were often the 
resort of the buffalo, the elk, and the antelope, who had made 
innumerable paths among the trees and thickets, which had 
the effect of the mazy walks and alleys of parks and shrub- 
beries. Sometimes, where the river passed between high 



ASTORIA. 141 

banks and bluffs, the roads, made by the tranii) of buffaloes 
for many ages along the face of the heights, looked hke so 
many well-travelled highways. At other places the banks 
were banded with great vems of iron ore. laid bare by the 
abrasion of the river. At one pLacc the course of the river 
was nearly in a straight line for about fifteen miles. Tlie 
banks sloped gently to its margin, mthout a single tree, but 
bordered with grass and herbage of a vivid green. Along 
each bank, for the whole fifteen miles, extended a stripe, one 
hundred yards in breadth, of a deep rusty brown, indicating 
an inexhaustible bed of iron, through the centre of wiiich the 
Missouri had worn its way. Indications of the continuance of 
this bed were afterward observed higher up the river. It is, 
in fact, one of the mineral magazines which nature has pro- 
vided in the heart of this vast realm of fertility, and which, in 
connection with the immense beds of coal on the same river, 
seem garnered up a^ the elements of the future wealth and 
power of the mighty West. 

The sight of these mineral treasures greatly excited the 
curiosity of Mr. Bradbury, and it was tantalizing to him to be 
checked in his scientific researches, and obhged to forego his 
usual rambles on shore ; but they were nov/ entering the fated 
country of the Sioux Tetons, in which it was dangerous to 
wander about unguarded. 

This country extends for some days' journey along the river, 
and consists of vast prairies, here and there diversified by 
swelling hills, and cut up by ravines, the channels of turbid 
streams in the rainy seasons, but almost destitute of water 
during the heats of summer. Here and there, on the sides of 
the hills, or along the alluvial borders and bottoms of the 
ravines, are gro 'ves and skirts of forest ; but for the most part 
the country presented to the eye a boundless waste, covered 
with herbage, but without trees. 

Tlie soil of this immense region is strongly impregnated vv^itli 
sulphur, copperas, alum, and p;lauber salts: its various earths 
impart a deep tinge to the streams which drain it, and these, 
^^dth the crura bling of the banks along the Missouri, give to 
the waters of tha,t river much of the coloring matter with 
which they are clouded. 

Over this vast tract the roving bands of the Sioux Tetons 
hold their vagrant sway, subsisting by the chase of the buffalo, 
the elk, the deer, and the antelope, and waging ruthless wap 
fare with otLir wandering tribes. 



142 ASTORIA. 

As the boats made their way up the stream bordered by tliis 
land of danger, many of the Ccinadian voyageurs, whose fears 
had been awakened, would regard with a distrustful eye the 
boundless waste extending on each side. All, however, was 
silent, and apparently untenanted by a human being. Now 
and then a. herd of deer would be seen feeding tranquilly 
among the flowery herbage, or a line of buiialoes, like a. cara- 
,van on its march, moving across the distant profile of the 
prairie. The Canadians, however, began to apprehend an 
ambush in every thicket, and to regard the broad, tranquil 
plain as a sailor eyes some shallow and perfidious sea, which, 
though smooth and safe to the eye, conceals the lurking rock 
or treacherous shoal. The very name of a Sioux became a 
watchword of terror. Not an elk, a wolf, or any other animal, 
could appear on tlie hills, but the boats resounded with ex- 
clamations from stern to stern, " Voila les Sioux P'' " Voila les 
Sioux r^ (there are the Sioux! there are the Sioux!). When- 
ever it was practicable, the night encampment was on some 
island in the centre of the stream. 

On the morning of the 31st of May, as the travellers were 
breakfasting on the right bank of the river, the usual alarm 
was given, but with more reason, as two Indians actually 
made their appearance on a bluff on the opposite or northeast 
side, and harangued them in a loud voice. As it was im- 
possible at that distance to distinguish what they said, Mr. 
Hunt, after breakfast, crossed the river wdth Pierre Dorion, 
the interpreter, and advanced boldly to converse with them, 
while the rest remained watching, in mute suspense, the move- 
ments of the parties. As soon as Mr. Hunt landed, one of the 
Indians disappeared behind the hill, but shortly reappeared on 
horseback, and went scouring off across the heights. Mr. 
Hunt held some conference with the remaining savage, and 
then recrossed the river to his party. 

These two Indians proved to be spies or scouts of a large war 
party encamped about a league off, and numbering two hun- 
dred and eighty lodges, or about six hundred warriors, of three 
different tribes of Sioux ; the Yangtons Ahna, the Tetons Bois- 
brule, and the Tetons Min-na-kine~azzo. They expected daily 
to be reinforced by two other tribes, and had been waiting 
eleven days for the arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, with a deter- 
mination to oppose their progress up the river ; being resolved 
to prevent all trade of the white men v/ith their enemies tlio 
Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees. The Indian who l:ad 



ASTORIA. 143 

galloped off on horseback had gone to give notice of the ap- 
proach of the party, so that they might now look out for some 
fierce scenes with those pira,tical savages, of whom they had 
received so many formidable accounts. 

The party braced up their spirits to the encounter, and re- 
embarking, pulled resolutely up the stream. An island for 
some time intervened between them and the opposite side of 
the river; but on clearing the upper end, they came in full 
view of the hostile shore. There was a ridge of hills, down 
which the savages were pouring in great numbers, some on 
horseback, and some on foot. Reconnoitering them with the 
aid of glasses, they perceived that they were all in vv^arlike 
array, painted and decorated for battle. Their weapons were 
bows and arrows, and a few short carbines, and most of them 
had round shields. Altogether they had a wild and gallant 
appearance, and, taking possession of a point which com- 
manded the river, ranged themselves along the bank as if 
prepared to dispute their passage. 

At sight of this formidable front of war, Mr. Hunt and his 
companions held counsel together. It vv^as plain that the 
rumors they had heard were correct, and the Sioux were de- 
termined to oppose their progress by force of arms. To at- 
tempt to elude them and continue along the river was out of 
the question. The strength of the mid-current was too violent 
to be withstood, and the boats were obhged to ascend along 
the river banks. These banks were often high and perpen- 
dicular, affording the savages frequent stations, from whence, 
safe themselves, and almost unseen, they might shower down 
their missiles upon the boats below, and retreat at will, without 
danger from pursuit. Nothing apparently remained, there- 
fore, but to fight or turn back. The Sioux far outnumbered 
them, it is true, but their own T)arty was about sixty strong, 
well armed and supplied with ammunition ; and besides their 
guns and rifles, they had a swivel and two howitzers mounted 
in the boats. Should they succeed in breaking this Indian 
force by one vigorous a,ssault, it was likely they would be de- 
terred from making any future atta,ck of consequence. The 
fighting alternative was, therefore, instantly adopted, and the 
boats pulled to shore nearly opposite to the hostile force. Here 
the arms were ail examined and j)ut in order. The swivel and 
howitzers were then loaded with powder and discharged, to let 
the savages know by the report how formidably they were 
provided. The noise echoed along the shores of the river, and 



144 JiSTOUIA. 

must have startled the warriors, who were only accustomed to 
shar}) reports of rifles. The same pieces were then loaded with 
as many bullets as they would probably bear ; after which the 
whole pa,rty embarked and pulled across the river. The In- 
dians remained watching them in silence, their x)aintcd forms 
and visages glaring in the sun, and their feathers fluttering 
in the breeze. The poor Canadians eyed them v/ith rueful 
glances, and now and then a fearful ejaculation would escape 
them. "Parbleu! this is a sad scrape we are in, brother!" 
would one mutter to the next oarsman. "Ay, ay!" the other 
would reply, "we are not going to a wedding, my friend!" 

When the boats arrived within rifle shot, the hunters and 
other fighting personages on board seized their weapons, and 
prepared for action. As they rose to fire, a confusion took 
place among the savages. They displayed their buftalo robes, 
raised them with both hands above their heads, and then 
spread them before them on the ground. At sight of this 
Pierre Dorion eagerly cried out to the party not to fire, as 
this movement was a peaceful signal, and an invitation to a 
parley. Immediately about a dozen of the principal warriors, 
separating from the rest, descended to the edge of the river, 
lighted a fire, seated themselves in a semicircle round it, and, 
displaying the calumet, invited the party to land. Mr. Hunt 
now called a council of the partners on board of his boat. The 
question was, whether to trust to the amicable overtures of 
these ferocious people ? It was determined in the affirmative, 
for, otherwise, there was no alternative but to fight them. The 
main body of the party were ordered to remain on board of 
the boats, keeping witliin shot, and prepared to fire in case of 
any signs of treachery ; while Mr. Hunt and the other partners 
(M'Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and M'Lellan), proceeded to land, 
accompanied by the interpreter and Mr. Bradbury. The chiefs 
who awaited them on the margin of the river, remained seated 
m their semicircle without stirring a limb or moving a muscle, 
motionless as so many statues. Mr. Hunt and his companions 
advanced without hesitation, and took their seats on the sand 
80 as to complete the circle. The band of warriors who lined 
the banks above stood looking dov/n in silent groups and clus^ 
ters, some ostentatiously equipped and decorated, others en- 
tirely naked, but fantastically painted, and all variously 
armed. 

The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due cere- 
mony. The bowl was of a species of red stone resembling 



ASTORIA. 145 

porphyry; the stem was six feet in length, decorated with 
tufts of horse hair dyed red. The pipebearer stepped within 
the circle, lighted the pipe, held it toAvard the sun, then to- 
ward the different points of the compass, alter which he 
handed it to the principal chief. The latter smoked a few 
whiffs, then, holding the head of the pipe in his hand, offered 
the other end to Mr. Hunt, and to each one successively in the 
circle. When all had smoked, it was considered that an as^ 
surance of good faith and arnity bad been interchanged. Mr. 
Hunt now made a speech in French, which was interpreted as 
he proceeded by Pierre Dorion. Ho informed the Sioux of the 
real object of the exiDcdition, of himself and his comx3anions, 
which was, not to trade with any of the tribes up the river, 
but to cross the mountains to the great salt lake in the west, in 
search of some of their brothers, whom they had not seen for 
eleven months. Tliat he had heard of the intention of the 
Sioux to oppose his passage, and was prepared, as they might 
see, to effect it at all hazards ; nevertheless his feelings toward 
the Sioux were friendly, in proof of vdiich he had brought 
them a present of tobacco and corn. So saying, he ordered 
about fifteen carottes of tobacco, and as many bags of corn, to 
be brought from the boat and laid in a heap near the coun- 
cil fire. 

The sight of these presents mollified the chieftain, who had 
floubtless been previously rendered considerate by the reso- 
lute conduct of the white men, the judicious disposition of 
their httle armament, the comx^leteness of their equipments, 
and the compact array of battle which they presented. He 
raade a speech in reply, in which he stated the object of their 
hostile assemblage, which had been merely to prevent supplies 
of arms and ammunition from going to the Arickaras, Man- 
dans, and Minatarees, with whom they were at war; but being 
now convinced that the party were carrying no supplies of the 
kind, but merely proceeding in quest of their brothers beyond 
the mountains, they would not impede them in their voyage. 
He concluded by thanking them for their present, and advis- 
ing them to encamp on the opposite side of the river, as he had 
some young men among his warriors for whose discretion he 
could not be answerable, and who might be troublesome. 

Here ended the confei'ence: they all arose, shook hands, and 
parted. Mr. Hunt and his com.panions re-en:barked, and the 
boats proceeded on their courcc unmolested. 



146 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

On the afternoon of the following day (June 1st) they arrived 
at the great bend, where the river winds for about thirty niiles 
round a circular peninsula, the neck of which is not above two 
thousand yards across. On the succeeding morning, at an 
early hour, they descried two Indians standing on a high bank 
of the river, waving and spreading their buffalo robes in signs 
of amity. They immediately pulled to shore and landed. On 
approaching the savages, however, the latter showed evident 
symptoms of alarm, spreading out their arms horizontally, ac- 
cording to their mode of supplicating clemency. The reason 
was soon explained. They proved to be two chiefs of the very 
war party that had brought Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan to a 
stand two years before, and obliged them to escape down the 
river. They ran to embrace these gentlemen, as if delighted 
to meet with them ; yet they evidently feared some retaliation 
of their past misconduct, nor were they quite at ease until the 
pipe of peace had been smoked. 

Mr. Hunt having been informed that the tribe to which these 
m.en belonged had killed three white men during the preceding 
summer reproached them with the crime, and demanded their 
reasons for such savage hostility. "We kill white men, " re- 
plied one the chiefs, " because white men kill us. That very 
man," added he, pointing to Carson, one of the new recruits, 
' ' killed one of our brothers last summer. The three white 
men were slain to avenge his death." 

The chief was correct in his reply. Carson admitted that, 
being with a party of Arickaras on the banks of the Missouri, 
and seeing a war party of Sioux on the opposite side, he had 
fired with his rifle across. It was a random shot, made with- 
out much expectation of effect, for the river was full half a 
mile in breadth. Unluckily it brought down a Sioux warrior, 
for whose wanton destruction threefold vengeance had been 
taken, as has been stated. In this way outrages are frequently 
committed on the natives by thoughtless or mischievous white 
men ; the Indians retaliate according to a law of their code, 
which requires blood for blood ; their act, of what with them 
is pious vengeance, resounds throughout the land, and is rcprc 



ASTORIA. 147 

sented as wanton and unprovoked ; the neighborhood is roused 
to arms ; a war ensues, which ends in the destruction of hall 
the tribe, the ruin of the rest, and their expulsion from their 
hereditary homes. Such is too often the real history of Indian 
warfare, which in general is traced up only to some vindictive 
act of a savage ; while the outrage of the scoundrel white man 
that provoked it is sunk in silence. 

The two chiefs, having smoked their pipe of peace and re- 
ceived a few presents, departed well satisfied. In a httle while 
two others appeared on horseback, and rode up abreast of the 
boats. They had seen the presents given to their comrades, 
but were dissatisfied with them, and came after the boats to 
ask for more. Being somewhat peremptory and insolent in 
their demands, Mr. Hunt gave them a flat refusal, and threat- 
ened, if they or any of their tribe followed him with similar 
demands, to treat them as enemies. They turned and rode ofi 
in a furious passion. As he was ignorant what force these 
chiefs might have behind the hills, and as it was very possible 
they might take advantage of some pass of the river to attack 
the boats, Mr. Hunt called all stragglers on board and prepared 
for such emergency. It was agreed that the large boat com- 
manded by Mr. Hunt, should ascend along the northeast side 
of the river, and the three smaller boats along the south side. 
By this arrangement each party would command a view of the 
opposite heights above the heads and out of the sight of their 
companions, and could give the alarm should they perceive 
any Indians lurking there. The signal of alarm was to be 
two shots fired in quick succession. 

The boats proceeded for the greater part of the day without 
seeing any signs of an enemy. About four o'clock in the after- 
noon the large boat, commanded by Mr. Hunt, came to where 
the river was divided by a long sand-bar, which apparently, 
however, left a sufficient channel between it and the shore 
along which they were advancing. He kept up this channel, 
therefore, for some distance, until the water proved too shal- 
low for the boat. It was necessary, therefore, to put about, 
return down the channel, and pull round the lower end of the 
sand-bar into the main stream. Just as he had given orders to 
this effect to his men, two signal guns were fired from the boats 
on the opposite side of the river. At the same moment a file 
of savage warriors was observed pouring down from the un- 
pending bank, and gathering on the shore at the lower end of 
the bar. They were evidently a war party, being armed with 



148 ASTORIA. 

bows and arrows, battle-clubs, and carbines, and round buck- 
lers of buffalo hide, and their naked bodies were painted with 
black and white stripes. The natural inference was that they 
belonged to the two tribes of Sioux which had been expected 
by the great war party, and that they had been incited to hos- 
tihty by the two chiefs who had been enraged by the refusal 
and the menace of Mr. Hunt. Here then was a fearful pre- 
dicament. Mr. Hunt and his crew seemed caught, as it were, 
in a trap. The Indians, to the nutuber of about a hundred, 
ha.d already taken possession of a point near which the boat 
would have to pass : others kept pouring down the bank, and 
it was probable that some would remain posted on the top of 
the height. 

The hazardous situation of Mr. Hunt was perceived by those 
in the other boats, and they hastened to his assistance. They 
were at some distance above the sand-bar, however, and on 
the opposite side of the river, and saw, with intense anxiety, 
the number of savages continually augmenting, at the lower 
end of the channel, so that the boat would be exposed to a fear- 
ful attack before they could render any assistance. Their 
anxiety increased, as they saw Mr. Hunt and his party descend- 
ing the channel and daimtlessly approaching the point of dan- 
ger; but it suddenly changed into surprise on beholding the 
boat pass close by the savage horde unmolested, and steer out 
safely into the broad river. 

The next moment the whole band of warriors was in motion. 
They ran along the bank imtil they were opposite to the boats, 
then throwing by their weapons and buffalo robes, plunged 
into the river, waded and swam off to the boats and sur- 
rounded them in crowds, seeking to shake hands with every 
individual on board; for the Indians have long since found 
this to be the white man's token of amity, and they carry it 
to an extreme. 

All uneasiness was now at an end. The Indians proved to 
be a war party of Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, con- 
sisting of three hundred warriors, and bound on a foray 
against the Sioux. Their war plans were abandoned for the 
present, and they determined to return to the Arickara town, 
where they hoped to obtain from the white men arms and 
ammunition that would enable them to take the field with ad- 
vantage over their enemies. 

The boats now sought the first convenient place for encamp- 
ing. The tents wore pitclied ; the warriors fixed their camp at 



ASTORIA. 149 

about a hundred yards distant; provisions were furnished 
from the boats sufficient for all parties; there was hearty 
though rude feasting in both camps, and in the evening the 
red warriors entertained their white friends with dances and 
songs, that lasted until after midnight. 

On the following morning (July 3d) the travellers re-em- 
barked, and took a temporary leave of their Indian friends, 
who intended to proceed immediately for the Arickara town, 
where they expected to arrive in three days, long before the 
boats could reach there. Mr. Hunt had not proceeded far be- 
fore the chief came galloping along the shore and made signs 
for a parley. He said his people could not go home satisfied 
unless they had something to take with them to prove that 
they had met with the white men. Mr. Hunt understood the 
drift of the speech, and made the chief a present of a cask oi 
powder, a bag of balls, and three dozen of knives, with which 
he was liighly pleased. While the chief was receiving these 
presents an Indian came I'unning along the shore, and an- 
nounced that a boat, filled with white men, was coming up 
the river. This was by no means agreeable tidings to Mr. 
Hunt, who correctly concluded it to be the boat of Mr. Manuel 
Lisa ; and he was vexed to find that alert and adventurous 
trader upon his heels, whom he had hoped to have out- 
manoeuvred, and left far behind. Lisa, however, was too 
much experienced in the wiles of Indian trade to be lulled by 
the promise of waiting for liim at the Poncas village ; on the 
contrary, he had allowed Ihmself no repose, and had strained 
every nerve to overtake the rival party, and availing himself 
of the moonlight, had even sailed during a considerable part 
of the night. In this he was partly proinpted by his appre- 
hensions of the Sioux, having met a boat which had probably 
passed Mr. Hunt's party in the night, and which had been 
fired into by these savages. 

On hearing that Lisa was so near at hand, Mr. Hunt per- 
ceived that it was useless to attempt any longer to evade him; 
after proceeding a few miles farther, therefore, he came to a 
halt and waited for him to come up. In a little while the 
barge of Lisa made its appearance. It came sweeping gently 
up the river, manned by its twenty stout oarsmen, and armed 
by a swivel mounted at the bow. The whole number on board 
amounted to twenty-six men ; among whom was Mr. Plenry 
Breckenridge, then a young, enterprising man; who was a 
mere passenger, tempted by notions of curiosity to accom- 



150 ASTORIA. 

pany Mr. Lisa. He has since made himself known by various 
writings, among which may be noted a narrative of this very 
voyage. 

The approach of Lisa, while it was regarded with uneasiness 
by Mr. Hunt, roused the ire of M'Lellan ; who calling to mind 
old grievances, began to look round for his rifle, as if ho 
really intended to carry his threat into execution and shool; 
him on the spot; and it was with some difficulty that Mr. 
Hunt was enabled to restrain his ire, and prevent a. scene of 
outrage and confusion. 

The meeting between the two leaders, thus mutually dis 
trustful, could not be very cordial; and as to Messrs. Crooks 
and M'Lellan, though they refrained from any outbreak, yet 
they regarded in grim defiance their old rival and under- 
plotter. In truth, a general distrust prevailed throughout the 
party concerning Lisa and his intentions. They considered 
him artful and slippery, and secretly anxious for the failure of 
their expedition. There being now nothing more to be appie- 
hended from the Sioux, they suspected that Lisa would take 
advantage of his twenty-oared barge to leave them and get 
first among the ArickaTas. As he had traded with those 
people and possessed great influence over them, it was fearad 
he might make use of it to impede the business of Mr. Hunt 
and his party. It was resolved, therefore, to keep a sharp 
lookout upon his movements ; and M'Lellan swore that if he 
saw the least sign of treachery on his part, he would instantly 
put his old threat into execution. 

Notwithstanding these secret jealousies and heart-burnings, 
the two parties maintained an outward appearance of civility, 
and for two days continued forward in company with some 
degree of harmony. On the third day, however, an explosion 
took place, and it w^as produced by no less a personage than 
Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter. It will be recol- 
lected that this worthy had been obliged to steal a march from 
St. Louis, to avoid being arrested for an old whiskey debt 
which he owed to the Missouri Fur Company, and by which 
Mr. Lisa had hoped to prevent his enlisting in Mr. Hunt's ex- 
pedition. Dorion, since the arrival of Lisa, had kept aloof, 
and regarded him with a sullen and dogged aspect. On the 
flfth of July, the two parties were brought to a halt by a 
heavy rain, and remained encamped about a hundred yards 
apart. In the course of the day Lisa undertook to tamper 
with the faith of Pierre Dorion, and, inviting him on board of 



ASTORIA. 151 

his boat, regaled him with his favorite whiskey. When he 
thought liim sufficiently mellowed, he proposed to him to quit 
the service of his new employei's and return to his old alle- 
giance. Finding him not to bo moved by soft words, he 
called to mind his old debt to the company, and threatened to 
carry him off by force, in payment of it. The mention of this 
debt always stirred up the gall of Pierre Dorion, bringing with 
it the remembrance of the whiskey extortion. A violent 
quarrel arose between him and Lisa, and he left the boat in 
high dudgeon. His first step was to repair to the tent of Islw 
Hunt and reveal the attempt that had been made to shake his 
faith. While he was yet talking Lisa entered the tent, under 
the pretext of coming to b^: rrow a towing lino. High words 
instantly ensued between him and Dorion, which ended by the 
half-breed's dealing him a blow. A quarrel in the ' ' Indian 
country," however, is not to be settled with fisticuffs. Lisa 
immediately rushed to his boat for a weapon. Dorion snatched 
up a pair of pistols belonging to Mr. Hunt, and placed himself 
in battle array. The noise had roused the camp, and every 
one pressed to know the cause. Lisa now reappeared upon 
the field with a knife stuck in his girdle. Mr. Breckenridge, 
who had tried in vain to mollify his ire, accompanied him to 
the scene of action. Pierre Dorion's pistols gave him the ad- 
vantage, and he maintained a most warlike attitude. In the 
mean tune Crooks and M'LeUan had learnt the cause of the 
affray, and were each eager to take the quarrel into their ov\'n 
hands. A scene of uproar and hubbub ensued that defies de- 
scription. M'Lellan would have brought his rifle into play 
and settled all old and new grudges by a pull of the trigger, 
had he not been restrained by Mr Hunt. That gentlemon 
acted as moderator, endeavoring to prevent a general meld ; : 
in the midst of the bravvd, however, an expression was made 
use of by Lisa dorogo.tor}' to his own honor: In an instant l]:c 
tranquil spirit of Mr. Hunt was in a flame. He novv^ became 
as eager for fight as any one on the ground, and challenged 
Lisa to settle the dispute on the spot with pistols, Lisa I'c- 
paired to his boat to arm himself for the deadly fend. He \^'cs\ 
followed by Messrs. Bradbury and Breckenridge, who, novicr;*, 
in Indian life and the "chivalry/"' of the frontier, had no relish 
for scenes of blood and brawl. By their earnest mediation the 
quarrel was with rrreat difficuUy brought to a close vv^ithout 
bloodshed; but Ihe two leaders of the rival camps separated 
in anger, and ah pc^'sonal intercourse ceased between them. 



152 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XX. 

The rival parties now coasted along the opposite sides of the 
river, within sight of each other ; the barges of Mr. Hunt al- 
ways keeping some distance in the advance, lest Lisa should 
push on and get first to the Arickara village. The scenery 
and objects, as they proceeded, gave evidence that they were 
advancing deeper and deeper into the domains of savage 
nature. Boundless wastes kept extending to the eye, more 
and more animated by herds of buffalo. Sometimes these un- 
wieldy animals were seen moving in long procession across the 
silent landscape; at other times they were scattered about, 
singly or in groups, on the broad enamelled prairies and green 
acclivities, some cropping the rich pasturage, others reclining 
amid the flowery herbage; the whole scene realizing in a 
manner the old scriptural descriptions of the vast pastoral 
countries of the Orient, with " cattle upon a thousand hills." 

At one place the shores seemed absolutely lined with buf- 
faloes ; many were makmg their way across the stream, snort' 
ing, and blowing, and floundering. Numbers, in spite of every 
effort, were borne by the rapid current within shot of the 
boats, and several were killed. At another place a number 
were descried on the beach of a small island, under the shade 
of the trees, or standing in the water, like cattle, to avoid the 
flies and the heat of the day. 

Several of the best marksmen stationed themselves in the 
bow of a barge which advanced slowly and silently, stemming 
the current with the aid of a broad sail and a fair breeze. The 
buffalo stood gazing quietly at the barge as it approached, 
perfectly unconscious of their danger. The fattest of the herd 
was selected by the hunters, who all fired together and 
brought down their victim. 

Besides the buffaloes they sa,w abundance of deer, and fre- 
quent gangs oi' stately elks, together with hght troops of 
sprightly antelopes, the fleetest and most beautiful inhabitants 
of the prairies. Tliere are two kinds of antelones in these 
regions, one nearly the size of the common deer, the other not 
much larger than a goat. Their color is a light gray, or rather 
dun, slightly spotted with white; and they have small horns, 



ASTORIA. 153 

like those of the deer, which they never shed. Nothing can 
surpass the dehcate and elegant finish of their limbs, in which 
lightness, elasticity, and strength are wonderfully combined. 
All the attitudes and movements of this beautiful animal are 
graceful and picturesque ; and it is altogether as fit a subject 
for the fancifiil uses of the poet, as the oft-sung gazelle of the 
East. 

Their habits are shy and capricious ; they keep on the open 
plains, are quick to take the alarm, and bound away with a 
fleetness that defies pursuit. When thus skimming across a 
prairie in the autumn, their light gray or dun color blends 
with the hue of the withered herbage, the swiftness of their 
motion bafiles the eye, and they almost seem unsubstantial 
forms, driven iilie gossamer before the wind. 

While they thus keep to the open plain and trust to their 
speed, they are safe ; but they have a prurient curiosity that 
sometimes betrays them to their ruin. When they have scud 
for some distance and left their i)ursuer behind, they will sud- 
denly stop and turn to gaze at the object of their alarm. If 
the pursuit is not follovv^ed up they will, after a time, yield to 
their inquisitive hankering, and return to the place from 
whence they have been frightened. 

John Day, the veteran hunter already mentioned, displayed 
his experience and skill in entrapping one of these beautiful 
animals. Taking advantage of its well known curiosity, he 
laid down flat among the grass, and putting his handkerchief 
on the end of his ramrod, waved it gently in the air. This 
had the effect of the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. 
The antelope gazed at the mysterious object for some time at a 
distance, then approached, timidly, pausing and reconnoiter- 
ing with increased curiosity ; moving round the point of attrac- 
tion in a circle, but still drawing nearer and nearer, until being 
within the range of the deadly rifle, he fell a victim to his 
curiosity. 

On the 10th of June, as the party were making brisk prog- 
ress with a fine breeze, they met a canoe with three Indians 
descending the river. They came to a parley, and brought 
news from the Arickara village. The war party, which had 
caused such alarm at the sand-bar, had reached the village 
some days previously, announced the approach of a party of 
traders, and displayed with great ostentation the presents they 
had received from them. On further conversation with these 
three Indians, Mr. Hunt learnt the real danger which he had 



154 ASTORIA. 

run, when hemmed up within the sand-bar. The Mandans 
who were of the war party, when they saw the boats so com- 
pletely entrapped and apparentlj^ within their power, had been 
eager for attacking it, and securing so rich a prize. The 
Minatarees, also, were nothing loath, feeling in some measure 
committed in hostility to the whites, in consequence of their 
tribe having killed two white men above the fort of the Mis- 
souri Fur Company. Fortunately, the Arickaras, who formed 
the majority of the war party, proved true in their friendship 
to the whites, and prevented any hostile act, otherwise a 
bloody affray, and perhaps a horrible massacre, might have 
ensued. 

On the 11th of June Mr. Hunt and his companions encami^ed 
near an island about six miles below the Arickara village. Mr. 
Lisa encamped^ as usual, at no great distance; but the same 
sullen and jealous reserve and non-intercourse continued be- 
tween them. Shortly after pitching the tents, Mr. Brecken- 
ridge made his appearance as an ambassador from the rival 
camp. He came on behalf of his companions, to arrange the 
manner of making their entrance into the village and of 
receiving the chiefs ; for everything of the kind is a matter of 
grave ceremonial among the Indians. 

The partners now expressed frankly their deep distrust of 
the intentions of Mr. Lisa, and their apprehensions, that, out 
of the jealousy of trade, ond resentment of recent disputes, 
he might seek to instigate the Arickaras against them. Mr. 
Breckenridge assured them that their suspicions were entirely 
groundless, and pledged himself that nothing of the kind 
should take place. He found it difficult, however, to remove 
their distrust; the conference, therefore, ended without pro- 
ducing any cordial understanding ; and M'Lellan recurred to 
his old threat of shooting Lisa the instant he discovered any- 
thing like treachery in his proceedings. 

That night the rain fell in torrents, accompanied by thunder 
and lightning. The camp was deluged, and the bedding and 
baggage drenched. All hands embarked at an early hour, and 
set forward for the village. About nine o'clock, when half 
way, they met a canoe, on board of which were two Arickara 
dignitaries. One, a fine-looking man, much above the com- 
mon size, was hereditary chief of the village ; he was called 
the Left-handed, on account of a personal pecuUarity. The 
other, a ferocious-looking savage, was the war chief, or gen- 
eralissimo; he was known by the name of the Big Man, an 



ASTORIA. 15^ 

appellation he well deserved from his size, for he was of a 
gigantic frame. Both were of fairer complexion than is usual 
with savages. 

They were accompanied by an interj^reter, a French Creole, 
one of those haphazard wights of Gallic origin, who abound 
upon our frontier, living among the Indians like one of their 
own race. He had been twenty years among the Arickaras, 
had a squaw and a troop of piebald children, and ofl&ciated as 
interpreter to the chiefs. Through this worthy organ the two 
dignitaries signified to Mr. Hunt their sovereign intention to 
oppose the further progress of the expedition up the river un- 
less a boat were left to trade with them. Mr. Hunt, in reply, 
explained the object of his voyage, and his intention of debark- 
ing at their village and proceeding thence by land ; and that he 
would willingl}^ trade with them for a supply of horses for his 
journey. With this explanation they were perfectly satisfied, 
and putting about, steered for their village to make prepara- 
tions for the reception of the strangers. 

The village of the Rikaras, Aricl^aras, or Ricarees, for the 
name is thus variously written, is between the 46th and 47th 
parallels of north latitude, and fourteen hundred and thirty 
miles above the mouth of the Missouri. The party reached it 
about ten o'clock in the morning, but landed on the opposite 
side of the river, where they spread out their bagga^ and 
effects to dry. From hence they commanded an excellent 
view of the village. It was divided into two portions, about 
eighty yards apart, being inhabited by two distinct bands. 
The whole extended about three quarters of a mile along the 
river bank, and was composed of conical lodges, that looked 
like so many small hillocks, being wooden frames intertwined 
with osier, and covered with earth. The plain beyond the vil- 
lage swept up into hills of considerable height, but the whole 
country was nearly destitute of trees. While they were re- 
garding the village, they beheld a singular fleet coming down 
tiie river. It consisted of a number of canoes, each made of a 
single buffalo hide stretched on sticks, so as to form a kind of 
circular trough. Each one was navigated by a single squaw, 
who knelt in the bottom and paddled, towing after her frail 
bark a bundle of floating wood intended for firing. This kind 
of canoe is in frequent use among the Indians ; the buffalo hide 
being readily made up into a bundle and transported on horse- 
back ; it is very serviceable in conveying baggage across the 
rivers. 



1^6 ASTORIA. 

The great number of horses grazing around the village, a ■ 
scattered over the neighboring hills and valleys, bespoke the 
equestrian habits of the Arickaras who are admirable horse- 
men. Indeed, in the number of his horses consists the wealth 
ol an Indian of the prairies; ^vlio resembles an Arab in his 
passion for this noble animal, ?.rid in his a^droitness in the man- 
agement of it. 

After a time, the voice oi the sovereign chief, "the Left- 
handed," was heard across the river, announcing that the 
council lodge was preparing, and inviting the white men to 
come over. The river was half a mile in width, yet every 
word uttered by the chieftain was heard ; this may be partly 
attributed to the distinct manner in which every syllable 
of the compound words in the Indian language is articulated 
and accented; but in truth, a savage warrior might often rival 
Achilles himself for force of lungs.* 

Now came the delicate point of management : how the two 
rival parties were to conduct their visit to the village with 
proper circumspection and due decorum. Neither of the lead- 
ers had spoken to each other since their quarrel. All com- 
munication had been by ambassadors. Seeing the jealousy en- 
tertained of Lisa, Mr. Breckenridge, in his negotiation, had 
arranged that a deputation from each party should cross the 
river at the same time, so that neither would have the first 
access to the ear of the Arickaras. 

The distrust of Lisa, however, had increased in proportion 
as they approached the sphere of action, and M'Lellan in par- 
ticular kept a vigilant eye upon his motions, swearing to shoot 
him if he attempted to cross the river first. 

About two o'clock the large boat of Mr. Hunt was manned, 
and he stepped on board, accompanied by Messrs. M'Kenzie 
and M'Lellan ; Lisa at the same time embarked in his barge ; 
the two deputations amounted in all to fourteen persons, and 
never was any movement of rival potentates conducted with 
more wary exactness. 

They landed amid a rabble crowd, and were received on the 
bank by the left-handed chief, who conducted them into the 
village with grave courtesy ; driving to the right and left the 
swarms of old squaws, imp-like boys, and vagabond dogs, with 
which the place abounded. They wound their way between 
the cabins, which looked like dirt-heaps huddled together with- 



* Bradbury, p. 110. 



ASTORIA. 157 

out any plan, and surrounded by old palisades ; all filthy in 
the extreme, and redolent of villainous smells. 

At length they arrived at the council lodge. It was some- 
what spacious, and formed ,of four forked trunks of trees 
placed upright, supporting cross-beams and a frame of poles 
interwoven with osiers, and the whole covered with earth. A 
hole sunken in the centre formed the fireplace, and immediately 
above was a circular hole m the apex of the lodge, to let out the 
smoke and let in the daylight. Around the lodge were recesses 
for sleeping, like the berths on board siiips, screened from viev/ 
by curtains of dressed skins. At the upper end of the lodge 
was a kind of hunting and warlike trophj^, consisting of two 
buffalo heads garishly painted, surmounted by shields, bows, 
quivers of arrows, and other weapons. 

On entering the lodge the chief pointed to mats or cushions 
which had been placed around for the strangers, and on which 
they seated themselves, while ho placed himself on a kind of 
stool. An old man then came forward with the pipe of peace 
or good-fellowship, lighted and handed it to the chief, and then 
falling back, squatted himself near the door. The pipe was 
passed from, mouth to mouth, each one taking a whiff, which 
is equivalent to the inviolable pledge of faith, of taking salt 
together among the ancient Britons. The chief then inade a 
sign to the old pipe-bearer, who seemed to fill, likewise, the 
station of herald, seneschal, and public crier, for he ascended 
to the top of the lodge to make proclamation. Here he took 
his post beside the aperture for the emission of smoke and the 
admission of light ; the chief dictated from within what he was 
to proclaim, and ho bawled it forth with a force of lungs that 
resounded over all the village. In this way he summoned the 
warriors and great men to council; every now and then report- 
ing progress to his chief through the hole in the roof. 

In a little while the braves and sagos began to enter one by 
one as their names were called or announced, emerging from 
under the buffalo robe suspended over the entrance instead of 
a door, stalking across the lodge to the skins placed on the 
floor, and crouching down on them in silence. In this way 
twenty entered and took their seats, forming an assemblage 
worthy of the pencil ; for the Arickaras are a noble race of 
men, large and well formed, and maintain a savage grandeur 
and gravity of demeanor in their solemn ceremonials. 

All being seated, the old eneschel prepared the pipe of cere- 
mony or council, and having lit it, handed it to the chief. He 



158 ASTORIA. 

inhaled the sacred smoke, gave a puff upward to the heaven, 
then downward to the earth, then toward the east ; after this 
it was as usual passed from mouth to mouth, each holding it 
respectfully until his neighbor had taken several whiffs ; and 
now the grand council vv^as considered as opened in due form. 

The chief made an harangue welcoming the white men to 
his vilkige, and expressing his happiness in taking them by the 
hand as friends ; but at the same time complaining of the pov- 
erty of himself and his peojple ; the usual prelude among In- 
dians to begging or hard bargaining. 

Lisa rose to reply, and the eyes of Hunt and his companions 
were eagerlj^ turned upon him, those of M'Lellan glaring like a 
basilisk's. He began by the usual expressions of friendship, 
and then proceeded to explain the object of his own party. 
Those persons, however, said he, pointing to !P,Ir. Hunt and his 
companions, are of a different party, and are quite distinct in 
their vie^vs; but, added he, though we are separate parties, 
we make but one common cause when the safety of either is 
concerned. Any injury or insult offered to them I shall con- 
sider as done to myself, and will resent it accordingly. I trust, 
tlierefore, that you will treat them with the same friendship 
that you have alwa.ys manifested for me, doing everything in 
your power to serve them and to help them on their way. 
The si^eech of Lisa, delivered with an air of frankness and sin- 
cerity, agreeably surprised and disappointed the rival party. 

Mr. Hunt then spoke, declaring the object of his journey to 
the great Salt Lake beyond the mountains, and that he should 
want horses for the purpose, for which he was ready to trade, 
having brought with him plenty of goods. Both he and Lisa 
c included their speeches by making presents of tobacco. 

The left-handed chieftain in reply promised his friendship 
and aid to the new-comers, and welcomed them to his -village. 
He added that they had not the number of horses to spare that 
Mr. Hunt required, and expressed a doubt whether they should 
be able to part with any. Upon this, another chieftain, called 
Gray Eyes, made a speech, and declared that they could readily 
supply Mr. Hunt with all the horses he might want, since, if 
they had not enough in the village, they could easily steal 
more. This honest expedient immediately removed the main 
difficulty ; but the chief deferred all trading for a day or two, 
until he should have time to consult with his subordinate 
chiefs, as to market rates; for the principal chief of a village, 
in conjunction with his council, usually fixes the prices at 



ASTORIA. 159 

which articles shall be bought and sold, and to them the village 
must conform. 

The council now broke up. Mr. Hunt transferred his camp 
across the river at a little distance belovv^ the village, and the 
left-handed chief placed some of his warriors as a guard to 
prevent the intrusion of any of his people. The camp was 
pitched on the river bank just above the boats. The tents, and 
the men wrapped in their blankets and bivouacking on skms 
in the open air, surrounded the baggage at night. Four senti- 
nels also kept watch within sight of each other outside of the 
camp until midnight, when they were relieved by four others 
who mounted guard until daylight. Mr. Lisa encamped near 
to Mr. Hunt, between hmi and the village. 

The speech of Mr. Lisa in the council had produced a pacific 
effect in the encampment. Though the sincerity of his friend- 
ship and good-will toward the new company still remained 
matter of doubt, he was no longer suspected of an intention to 
play false. The intercourse between the two leaders was, 
therefore, resumed, and the affairs of both parties went on 
harmoniously. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



A TRADE now commenced with the Arickaras under the regu- 
lation and supervision of their two chieftains. Lisa sent a.part 
of his goods to the lodge of the left-handed dignitary, and Mr. 
Hunt established his mart in the lodge of the Big Man. The 
village soon presented the appearance of a busy fair ; and as 
horses were in demand, the purlieus and the adjacent plain 
were like the ^dcinity of a Tartar encampment; horses were 
put through all their paces, and horsemen were careering about 
with that dexterity and grace for which the Arif^karas are 
noted. As soon as a horse was purchased, his tail was cropped, 
a sure mode of distinguishing him from the horses of the tribe ; 
for the Indians disdain to practise this absurd, barbarous, and 
indecent mutilation, invented by some mean and vulgar mind, 
insensible to the merit and perfections of the animal. On the 
contrary, the Indian horses a.re suffered to remain in every 
respect the superb and beautiful animals which nature formed 
them. 

The wealth of an Indian of the far west consists principally 



160 ASTORIA. 

in his horses, of which each chief and warrior possesses a great 
number, so that the plains about an Indian village or encamp- 
ment are covered with them. These form objects of traffic, or 
objects of depredation, and in this way pass from tribe to tribe 
over great tracts of country. The horses ov^^ned by the Arick- 
aras arc, for the most part, of the wild stock of the prairies ; 
some, however, had been obtained from the Poncas, Pawnees, 
and other tribes to the southwest, who had stolen them from 
the Spaniards in the course of horse-stealing expeditions into 
the Mexican territories. Theee were to be known by being 
branded, a Spanish mode of marking horses not practised by 
the Indians. 

As the Arickaras were medita^ting another expedition against 
their enemies the Sioux, the articles of traffic most in demand 
were guns, tomahawks, scalping-knives, powder, ball, and other 
munitions of war. The price of a horse, as regulated by the 
chiefs, was commonly ten dollars' worth of goods at first cost. 
To supply the demand thus suddenly created, parties of young 
men and braves had sallied forth on expeditions to steal horses ; 
a species of service among the Indians which takes precedence 
of hunting, and is considered a department of honorable war- 
fare. 

While the leaders of the expedition were actively engaged in 
preparing for the approaching journey, those who had accom- 
panied it for curiosity or amusement, found ample matter for 
observation in the village and its inhabitants. Wherever they 
went they were kindly entertained. If they entered a lodge, 
the buffalo robe was spread before the fire for them to sit 
down ; the pipe was bx^ought, and while the master of the lodge 
conversed with his guests, the squaw put the earthen vessel 
over the fire, well filled with dried buftalo meat and pounded 
corn ; for the Indian in his native state, before ho has mingled 
much with white men, and acquired their sordid habits, has 
the hospitality of the Arab : never does a stranger enter his 
door without having food placed before him ; and never is the 
food thus f Lirnished made a matter of traffic. 

The life of an Indian when at home in his village is a life of 
indolence and amusement. To the woman is consigned the 
labors of the household and the field ; she arranges the lodge ; 
brings wood for the fire ; cooks ; jerks venison and buffalo meat ; 
dresses the skins of the animals killed in the chase; cultivates 
the little patch of maize, pumplrins, and pulse, which furnishes- 
a great part of their p^^ovision ;. Their time for repc^se and 



ASTORIA. 1(31 

recreation is at sunset, when, the labors of the day Deing 
ended, they gather together to amuse themselves with petty 
games, or hold gossiping convocations bn the tops of their 
lodges. 

As to the Indian, he is a game animal, not to be degraded by 
useful or menial toil. It is enough that he exposes himself to 
the hardships of the chase and the perils of war ; that he brings 
home food for his family, and watches and lights for its pro- 
tection. Everything else is beneath his attention. When at 
home he attends only to his weapons and his horses, preparing 
the means of future exploit. Or he engages with his comrades 
in games of dexterity, agility and strength ; or in gambling 
games in which everything is put at hazard, with a reckless- 
ness seldom witnessed in civilized life. 

A great part of the idle leisure of the Indians when at home 
is passed in groups, squatted together on the bank of a river, 
on the top of a mound on the prairie, or on the roof of one of 
their earth-covered lodges, talking over the news of the day, 
the affairs of the tribe, the events and exploits of their last 
liunting or fighting expedition; or listening to the stories of 
old times told by some veteran chronicler; resembling a group 
of our village quidnuncs and pohticians, listening to the pros- 
ings of some superannuated oracle, or discussing the contents 
of an ancient newspaper. 

As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining of 
their lot. On the contrary, they would despise their husbands 
could they stoop to any menial office, and would think it con- 
veyed an imputation upon their own conduct. It is the worst 
insult one virago can cast upon another in a moment of alter- 
cation. "Infamous woman!" will she cry, "I have seen your 
husband carrying wood into his lodge to make the fire. Where 
was his squaw that he should be obliged to make a woman of 
himself ?" 

Mr. Hunt and his fellow-travellers had not been many daj'S 
at the Arickara village, when rumors began to circulate that 
the Sioux had followed them up, and that a vrar party, four or 
five hundred in number, v\^ere lurking somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood. These rumors produced much embarrassment in the 
camp. The white hunters were deterred from venturing forth 
in quest of game, neither did the leaders think it proper to 
expose them to such risk. The Arickaras, too, who had suf- 
fered greatly in their wars with this cruel and ferocious tribe, 
were roused to increased vigilance, and stationed mounted 



1(33 ASTOIUA. 

scouts upon the neighboring hiils. This, however, is a gonerpJ 
precciution among tlie tribes of the prairies. Those immense 
plains present a horizon hke the ocean, so that any object of 
importance can be descried afar, and information communi- 
cated to a great distance. The scouts are stationed on the 
hills, therefore, to look out both for game and for enemies, and 
are, in a manner, living telegra,phs conveying their intelligence 
by concerted signs. If Ihcy v\dsh to give notice of a herd of 
buffalo in the plain beyond, they gallop backward and forward 
abreast, on the summit of the hill. If they perceive an enemy 
at hand, they gallop to and fro, crossing each other ; at sight 
of which the whole village flies to arms. 

Such an alarm was given in the afternoon of the ISth. Four 
scouts were seen crossing and recrossing each other at full 
gallop, on the summit of a hill about two miles distant down 
the river. The cry was up that the Sioux were com.ing. In 
an instant the village was in an uproar. Men, women, and 
children were all bravv^ling and shouting ; dogs barking, yelp- 
ing, and howling. Some of the warriors ran for the horses to 
gather and drive them in from the prairie, some for their 
weapons. As fast as they could arm and equip they sallied 
forth; some on horseback, some on foot. Some hastily ar- 
rayed in their war dress, with coronets of fluttering feathers, 
and their bodies smeared with paint ; others naked and only 
furnished with the v^eapons they had snatched up. The wo- 
men and children gathered on the tops of the lodges and 
heightened the confusion of the scene by their vociferation. 
Old men who could no longer bear arms took similar stations, 
and harangued the warriors as they passed, exhorting them 
to valorous deeds. Some of the veterans took arms them- 
selves, and sallied forth with tottering steps. In this way, the 
savage chivalry of the village to the number of five hundred, 
poured forth, helter-skelter, riding and running, vvith hideous 
yells and war-whoops, like so many bedlamites or demoniacs 
let loose. 

After a while the tide of war rolled back, but with far less 
uproar. Either it had been a false alarm, or the enemy had 
reti-eated on finding themselves discovered, and quiet was re- 
stored to the village. The white hunters continuing to be fear- 
ful of ranging this dangerous neighborhood, fresh provisions 
began to be scarce in the camp. As a substitute, therefore, 
for venison and buffalo meat, the travellers had to purchase a 
number of dogs to be shot and cooked for the supply of the 



ASTOBIA. J 03 

camp. Foi'ttiDately., hoAvever chary the Indians might be of 
their horses, they were hberal of their dogs. In fact, these 
animals swarm abont an Indian village as they do about a 
Turkish town. Not a family but has two or three dozen be- 
longing to it of all sizes and colors ; soixie, of a superior breed, 
are used for hunting; others, to draw the sledge, while others, 
of a mongrel breed, and idle vagabond nature, are fattened for 
food. They are supposed to be descended from the wolf, and 
retain something of his savage but cowardly temper, howling 
rather than ba,rlring ; showing their teeth and snarling on the 
slightest provocation, but sneaking away on the least attack. 

The excitement of the village continued from day to day. 
On the day following the alarm just mentioned, several parties 
arrived from different directions, and were naet and conducted 
by some of the braves to the council lodge, where they reported 
the events and success of their expeditions, whether of war or 
hunting ; which news was afterward promulgated throughout 
the village, by certain old men who acted as heralds or town 
criers. Among the parties which arrived was one that had 
been among the Snake nation stealing horses, and returned 
crowned Avith success. As they passed in triumph through the 
village they were cheered by the men, Avomen, and children, 
collected as usual on the tops of the lodges, and AA^ere exhorted 
by the Nestors of the village to be generous in their dealings 
Avith the white men. 

The evening was spent in feasting and rejoicing among the 
relations of the successful Avarriors ; but sounds of grief and 
wailing were heard from the hills adjacent to the village : the 
lamentations of AvomenAvho had lost some relative in the foray . 

An Indian village is subject to continual agitations and ex- 
citements. The next day arrived a deputation of braves from 
the Cheyenne or Shienne nation ; a broken tribe, cut up, like 
the Arickaras, by Avars Avith the Sioux, and driven to take ref- 
uge among the Black Hills, near the sources of the Chej^enne 
Eiver, from Avhich they derive their name. One of these depu- 
ties was magnificently arrayed in a buffalo robe, on Avhich 
various figures AA^ere fancifully embroidered with split quills 
dyed red and yellow ; and the Avhole was fringed Avith the slen- 
der hoofs of young fawns, and rattled as he Avalked. 

The arrival of this deputation was the signal for another of 
those ceremonials which occupy so much of Indian life ; for no 
being is more courth' and punctilious, and more observing of 
etiquette and formality than an American saA^age. 



1(34 ASTORIA. 

The object of the deputation was to give notice of an intended 
visit of the Shienne (or Cheyenne) tribe to the Arickara 
village in the course of fifteen days. To this visit Mr. Hunt 
looked forward, to procure additional horses for his journey; 
all his bargaining being ineffectual in obtaining a sufficient 
supply from the Arickaras. Indeed nothing could prevail upon 
the latter to part with their prime horses, whic^h had been 
tra.ined to buffalo hunting. 

As Mr. Hunt would have to abandon his boats at this place, 
Mr. Lisa now offered to purchase them, and such of his mer- 
chandise as was superfluous, and to pay him in horses, to be 
obtained at a fort belonging to the Missouri Fur Company, 
situated at the Mandan villages, about a hundred and fifty 
miles further up the river. A bargain was promptly made, 
and Mr. Lisa and Mr. Crooks, with several companions, set out 
for the fort to procure the horses. They returned, after up- 
ward of a fortnight's absence, bringing with them the stipu- 
lated number of horses. Still the cavalry was not sufficiently 
numerous to convey the party and the baggage and merchan- 
dise, and a few days more were required to complete the ar- 
rangements for the journey. 

On the 9th of July, just before daybreak, a gi^eat noise and 
vociferation was heard in the village. This being the usual In- 
dian hour of attack and surprise, and the Sioux being known 
to be in the neighborhood, the camp was instantly on the alert. 
As the day broke Indians were descried in considerable num- 
ber on the bluffs, three or four miles down the river. The 
noise and agitation in the village continued. The tops of the 
lodges were crowded with the inhabitants, all earnestly looking 
toward the hills, and keeping up a vehement chattering. Pres- 
ently an Indian warrior galloped past the camp toward the 
village, and in a little while the legions began to pour forth. 

The truth of the matter was now ascertained. The Indians 
upon the distant hills were three hundred Arickara braves re- 
turning from a foraj^. They had met the war party of Sioux 
who had been so long hovering about the neighborhood, had 
fought them the day before, killed several, and defeated the 
rest with the loss of but two or three of their own men and 
about a dozen wounded ; and they were now halting at a dis- 
tance until their comrades in the village should come forth to 
meet them, and swell the parade of their triumphal entry. 
The warrior who had galloped past the camp was the leader of 
the party hastening home to give tidings of his victory. 



ASTORIA. 1 Gr5 

Preparations were now made for this great martial cere- 
mony. All the finery and equipments of the warriors were 
sent forth to them, that they might appear to the greatest ad- 
vantage. Those, too, who had remained at home, tasked their 
wardrobes and toilets to do honor to the procession. 

The Arickaras generally go naked, but, like all savages, they 
have their gala dress, of which they are not a little vain. This 
usually consists of a gray surcoat and leggins of the dressed 
skin of the antelope, resembling chamois leather, and embroi- 
dered with porcupine quills brilliantly dyed. A bufialo robe is 
thrown over the right shoulder, and across the left is slung a 
quiver of arrows. They wear gay coronets of plumes, particu- 
larly those of the swan; but the feathers of the black eagle are 
considered the most wortlij'-, being a sacred bird among the 
Indian warriors. He who has killed an enemy in his own 
land is entitled to drag at his neels a fox-skin attached to each 
moccason ; and he who nas slain a grizzly t)ear wears a neck- 
lace of his claws, the most glorious troi)hy that a hunter can 
exhibit. 

An Indian toilet is an oi^eration of some toil and trouble : 
the warrior often has to paint himself from head to foot, and 
is extremely capricious and difficult to please, as to the hideous 
distribution of streaks and colors. A great part of the monx- 
ing, therefore, passed away before there were any signs of 
the distant pa,2:eant. In the mean time a profound f=tillness 
reip:ned over the village. Most of the inhabitants had gone 
forth ; others remained in mute expectation. AU sports and 
occupations were suspended, excepting that in the lodges the 
painstaking squaws were silently busied in preparing the re- 
pasts for the warriors. 

It was near noon that a mingled sound of voices and rude 
music, faintly heard from a distance, gave notice that the pro- 
cession was on the march. The old men and such of the 
squaws as could leave tiioir employments hastened forth to 
meet it. In a little while it emerged from behind a hill, and 
'had a wild and picturesque appearance as it came moving over 
the summit in measured step, a.nd to the cadence of songs and 
savage instruments ; the warlike standards and trophies flaunt- 
ing aloft, and the feathers, and paint, and silver ornaments of 
the warriors glaring and glittering in the sunshine. 

The pageant had really something chivalrous in its arrange- 
ment. The Arickavras are divided into several bands, each 
bearing the name of some animal or bird, as the buffalo, tlio 



166 ASTORIA. 

bear, the dog, the pheasant. The present party consisted cf 
four of these bands, one of which was the dog, the most 
esteemed in war, being composed of young men under thirty, 
and noted for prowess. It is engaged on the most desperate 
occasions. The bands marched in separate bodies under their 
several leaders. The warriors on foot came first, in platoons 
of ten or twelve abreast ; then the horsemen. Each band bore 
as an ensign a spear or bow decorated with beads, pc^'cupine 
quills, and painted feathers. Each bore its trophies of scalps, 
elevated on poles, their long black locks streaming in the 
wind. Each v/as accompanied by its rude music and min- 
strelsy. In this way the procession extended nearly a quarter 
of a mile. The warriors were variously armed, some few with 
guns, others with bows and arrows, and war clubs; all had 
shields of buffalo liide, a kind of defence generally used by the 
Indians of the o^cvl prairies, who have not the covert of trees 
and forests to protect them. They were painted in the most 
savage style. Some had the stamp of a red hand across tiieir 
mouths, a sign that they had drunk the life-blood of a foe ! 

As they drew near to the village the old men and the women 
began to meet them, and now a scene ensued that proved the 
fallacy of the old fable of Indian apathy and stoicism. Parents 
and children, husbands a-nd wives, brothers and sisters met 
with the most rapturous expressions of joy; while wailings 
and lamentations were heard from the relatives of the killed 
and wounded. The procession, however, continued on witli 
slow and measured step, in cadence to the solemn chant, and 
the warriors maintained their fixed and stern demeanor. 

Between two of the principal chiefs rode a young warrior 
who had distinguished himself in the battle. He was severely 
wounded, so as with difficulty to keep on his horse; but he 
preserved a serene and steadfast countenance, as if perfectly 
unharmed. His mother had heard of his condition. Phc 
broke through the throng, and rushing up, threvv^ her arirs 
around him and wept aloud. He kept up the spirit and de- 
meanor of a v/arrior to the last, but expired shortly after he 
had reached his home. 

The village was now a scene of the utmost festivity and tri- 
umph. The banners, and trophies, and scalps, and painted 
shields were elevated on poles near the lodges. There were 
war-feasts and scalp-dances, with warlike songs and savage 
music ; all the inhabitants were arrayed in their festal dresses •, 
while the old heralds went round from lodge to lodge, promul- 



ASTORIA. 167 

gating with loud voices the events of the battle and the ex- 
ploits of the various warriors. 

Such was the boisterous revelry of the village ; h ut sounds of 
another kind were heard on the surrounding hills; piteous 
wailings of the women, who had retired thither to mourn in 
darkness and solitude for those who had fallen in battle. 
There the poor mother of the youthful warror who had re- 
turned home in triumph but to die, gave full vent to the 
anguish of a mother's heart. How much does this custom 
among the Indian women of repairing to the hill tops in the 
night, and pouring forth their wailings for the dead, call to 
mind the beautiful and affecting passage of Scripture, "In 
Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and 
great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and v/ould 
not be comforted, because they are not." 



CHAPTER XXII, 



While Mr. Hunt was diligently preparing for his arduous 
journey, some of his men began to lose heart at the perilous 
prospect before them ; but, before we accuse them of vv^ant of 
spirit, it is proper to consider the nature of the wilderness into 
which they were about to adventure. It was a region almost 
as vast and trackless as the ocean, and, at the time of which we 
treat, but httle known, excepting through the vague accounts 
of Indian hunters. A part of their route would lay across an 
immense tract, stretching north and south for hundreds of 
miles along the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and drained by 
the tributary streams of the Missouri and the Mississippi. 
This region, which resembles one of the immeasurable steppes 
of Asia, has not inaptly been termed "the great American 
desert." It spreads forth into undulating and treeless plains, 
and desolate sandy wastes, wearisome to the eye from their 
extent and monotony, and which are supposed by geologists 
to have formed the ancient floor of the ocean, countless ages 
since, when its primeval waves beat against the granite bases 
of the Rocky Mountains. 

It is a land where no man permanently abides ; for, in cer- 
tain seasons of the year there is no food either for the hunter 
or his steed. The herbage is paiThcd and withered ; the brooks 



168 ASTOJilA. 

and streams are dried up; the buffalo, the elk, and tlio deer 
have wandered to distant parts, keeping within the verge of 
expiring verdure, and leaving behind them a vast uninhabited 
solitude, seamed by ravines, the beds of former torrents, but 
now serving only to tantalize and increase the thirst of the 
traveller. 

Occasionally the monotony of this vast wilderness is inter- 
i-upted by mountainous belts of sand and limestone, broken 
into confused masses ; with precipitous cliffs and yawning ra- 
vines, looking like the ruins of a world ; or is traversed by 
lofty and barren ridges of rock, almost impassable, like those 
denominated the Black Hills. Beyond these rise the stern bar- 
riers of the Eocky Mountains, the limits, as it were, of the 
Atlantic world. The rugged defiles and deep valleys of this 
vast chain form sheltering places for restless and ferocious 
bands of savages, many of them the remnants of tribes once 
inhabitants of the prairies, but broken up by war and violence, 
and who carry into their mountain haunts the fierce passions 
and reckless habits of desperadoes. 

Such is the nature of this immense wilderness of the far 
West ; which apparently defies cultivation, and the habitation 
of civihzed life. Some portions of it along the rivers may par- 
tially be subdued by agriculture, others may form vast pasto- 
ral tracts, like those of the East ; but it is to be feared that a 
great part of it will form a lawless interval between the abodes 
of civilized man, like the wastes of the ocean or the deserts of 
Arabia; and, like them, be subject to the depredations of the 
marauder. Here may spring up new and mongrel races, like 
new formations m geology, the amalgamation of the "debris" 
and " abrasions" of former races, civilized and savage; the re- 
mains of broken and almost extinguished tribes ; the descend- 
ants of wandering hunters and trappers ; of fugitives from the 
iSpanish and American frontiers ; of adventurers and despera- 
does of every class and country, yearly ejected from the 
bosom of society into the wilderness. We are contributing in- 
cessantly to swell this singular and heterogeneous cloud of 
wild population that is to hang about our frontier, by the 
transfer of whole tribes of savages from the east of the Missis- 
sippi to the great wastes of the fa.r West. ]\Iany of these bear 
with them the smart of real or fancied injuries ; many con- 
sider themselves expatriated beings, wrongfully exiled from 
their hereditary homes and the sepulchres of their fathers, and 
cherish a deep and abiding animosity against the race that 



ASTORIA. ] 69 

has dibpossessed them. Some may gradually become pastoral 
hordes, like those rude and migratory people, half shepherd, 
half warrior, who, with their flocks and heids, roam the plains 
of upper Asia; but others, it is to be apprehended, will become 
predatory bands, mounted on the fleet steeds of the prairies, 
with the open plains for their marauding grounds, and the 
mountains for their retreats ond lurking-places. Here they 
may resemble those gi-eat hordes of the North — "Gog and Ma- 
gog with their bands," that haunted the gloomy imaginations 
of the prophets. ' ' A great company and a mighty host, all 
riding upon horses, and warring upon those nations which 
were at rest, and dwelt peaceably , and had gotten cattle and 
goods." 

The Spaniards changed the whole character and habits of 
the Indians when they brought the horse among them. In 
Chih, Tucuman, and other parts, it has converted them, we 
are told, into Tartar-like tribes, and enabled them to keep the 
Spaniards out of their country, and even to make it dangerous 
for them to venture far from their towns and settlements. 
Are we not in danger of producing some such state of things 
in the boundless regions of the far West ? That these are not 
mere fanciful and extravagant suggestions we have sufficient 
proofs in the dangers already experienced by the traders to 
the Spanish mart of Santa Fe, and to the distant posts of the 
fur companies. These are obliged to proceed in armed cara- 
vans, and are subject to murderous attacks from bands of 
Pawnees, Camanches, and Blackfeet, that come scouring upon 
them in their weary march across the plains or he in wait for 
them among the passes of the mountains. 

We are wandering, however, into excursive speculations, 
when our intention was merely to give an idea of the nature 
of the wilderness Avhich Mr. Hunt was about to travei^se, and 
which at that time was far less known than at present, though 
it still remains in a great measure an im known land. We can- 
not be surprised, therefore, that some of the least resolute of 
his party should feel dismay at the thoughts of adventuring 
into this perilous wilderness, under the uncertain guidance of 
three hunters, who had merely passed once through the coun- 
try and might have forgotten the landmarks. Their appre- 
hensions were aggravated by some of Lisa's followers, who, 
not being engaged in the expedition, took a miscliievous pleas- 
ure in exaggerating its dangers. They painted in strong col- 
ors, to the poor Ca.nadiaji voz/'a^eurs, the risk they would run 



170 ASTORIA. 

of perishing with hunger and thirst ; of being cut off by war- 
parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains ; of having their 
horses stolen by the Upsarokas or Crows, who infested the 
skirts of the Rocky Mountains ; or of being butchered by the 
Blackfeet, who lurked among the defiles. In a word, there 
was little chance of their getting alive acroi:;S the mountains; 
and even if they did, those three guides knew nothing of the 
howling wilderness that lay beyond. 

The apprehensions thus awakened in the minds of some of 
the men came well-nigh proving detriiPxCntal to the expedition. 
Some of them determined to desert, and to make their way 
back to St. Louis. They accordingly pul-loined several weap- 
ons and a barrel of gunpowder, as ammunition for their enter- 
prise, and buried them in the river bank, intending to seize 
one of the boats and make off in the night. Fortunately their 
plot was overheard by John Day, the Kentuckian, and com- 
municated to the partners, who took quiet and effectual means 
to frustrate it. 

The dangers to be apprehended from the Crow Indians had 
not been overrated by the camp gossips. These savages, 
through whose mountain haunts the party would have to 
pass, were noted for daring and excursive habits, and great 
dexterity in horse steahng. Mr. Hunt, therefore, considered 
himself fortunate in having met with a man who might be of 
great use to him in any intercourse he might have with the 
tribe. This was a wandering individual, named Edward Rose, 
whom he had picked up somewhere on the Missouri — one of 
those anomalous beings found on the frontier, who seem to 
have neither kin nor country. He had lived some time among 
the Crows, so as to become acquainted with their language 
and customs; and was, withal, a dogged, sullen, silent fellow, 
with a sinister aspect, and more of the savage than the civi- 
lized man in his appearance. He was engaged to serve in gen- 
eral as a hunter, but as guide and interpreter when they should 
reach the country of the Crows. 

On the 18th of July Mr. Hunt took up his line of march by 
land from the Arickara village, leaving Mr. Lisa and Mr. Nut- 
tail there, where they intended to await the expected arrival 
of Mr. Henry from the Rocky Mountains. As to Messrs. 
Bradbury and Breckenridge, they had departed, some days 
pre^aously, on a voyage down the river to St. Louis, with a 
detachment from Mr. I^isa's party. With all his exertions, 
Mr. Hunt had been unable to obtain a sufficient number of 



ASTORIA. 171 

horses for the accommodation of all his people. His cavalcade 
consisted of eighty-two horses, most of them heavily laden 
with Indian goods, beaver traps, ammunition, Indian corn, 
corn meal, and other necessaries. Each of the partners was 
momited, and a horse was allotted to the interpreter, Pierre 
Dorion, for the transportation of his luggage and his two chil- 
dren. His squaw, for the must part of the time, trudged on 
foot, like the residue of the party ; nor did any of the men 
show more patience and fortitude than this resolute woman in 
enduring fatigue and hardship. 

The veteran trappers and voyageurs of Lisa's party shook 
their heads as their comrades set out, and took leave of them 
as of doomed men ; and even Lisa himself gave it as his opin- 
ion, after the travellers had departed, that they would never 
reach the shores of the Pacific, hut would either perish with 
hunger in the wilderness, or be cut off by the savages. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



The course taken by Mr. Hunt was at fii'st to the northwest, 
but soon turned and kept generally to the southwest, to avoid 
the country infested by the Blackfeet. His route took him 
across some of the tributary streams of the Missouri, and over 
immense prairies, bounded only by the horizon, and destitute 
of trees. It was now the height of summer, and these naked 
plains would be intolerable to the traveller were it not for the 
breezes which sweep over them during the fervor of the day, 
bringing with them tempering airs from the distant mountains. 
To the prevalence of these breezes, and to the want of aU leafy 
covert, may we also attribute the freedom from those files and 
other insects so tormenting to man and beast during the sum« 
mer months, in the lower plains, which are bordered and inter- 
spersed with woodland. 

The monotony of these immense landscapes, also, would be as 
wearisome as that of the ocean, were it not relieved in som? 
degree by the purity and elasticity of the atmosphere, and the 
beauty of the heavens. The sky has that dehcious blue for 
which the sky of Italy is renowned; the san shines with a 
splendor, unobscured by any cloud or vapor, and a starlight 
night on the prairies is glorioas. This purity and elasticity of 



172 ASTORIA. 

atmosphere increases as the traveller approaches the moun- 
tains, and gradually rises into more elevated praii'ies. 

On the second day of the journey Mr. Hunt arranged the 
party into small and convenient messes, distributing among 
them the camp kettles. The encampments at night were as 
before : some sleeping under tents, and others bivouacking in 
the open air. The Canadians proved as patient of toil and 
hardship on the land as on the water ; indeed, nothing could 
surpass the patience and good-humor of these men upon the 
march. They were the cheerful drudges of the party, loading 
and unloading the horses, pitching the tents, making the fires, 
cooking; in short, performing all those household and menial 
Oifices which the Indians usually assign to the squaws ; and, 
like the squaws, they left all the hunting and fighting to others. 
A Canadian has but Httle affection for the exercise of the rifle. 

The progress of the party was but slow for the first few days. 
Some of the men were indisposed ; Mr. Crooks, especially, was 
so unwell that he could not keep on his horse. A rude kind of 
litter was therefore prepared for liim, consisting of two long 
poles, fixed, one on each side of two horses, with a matting be- 
tween them, on which he recUned at full length, and was pro- 
tected from the sun by a canopy of boughs. 

On the evening of the 23d (July) they encamped on the 
banks of what they term Big River ; and here we cannot but 
pause to lament the stupid, commonplace, and often ribald 
names entailed upon the rivers and other features of the great 
West by traders and settlers. As the aboriginal tribes of these 
magnificent regions are yet in existence, the Indian names 
might easily be recovered ; which, besides being in general more 
sonorous and musical, would remain mementoes of the primi- 
tive lords of the soil, of whom in a little while scarce any traces 
will be left. Indeed, it is to be wished that the whole of our 
country could be rescued, as much as possible, from the 
wretched nomenclature inflicted upon it by ignorant and vul- 
gar minds ; and this might be done, in a great degree, by restor- 
ing the Indian names, wherever significant and euphonious. 
As there appears to be a spirit of research abroad in respect 
to our aboriginal ?tntiquities, we would suggest, as a worthy 
object of enterprise, a map or maps, of every part of our 
country, giving the Indian names wherever they could be 
ascertained. Whoever achieves such an object worthily, will 
leave a monument to his own reputation. 

To return from this digression. As the travellers were now 



ASTORIA. 173 

in a country abounding with buffalo, they remained for several 
days encamped upon the banks of Big River, to obtain a supply 
of provisions, and to give the invalids time to recruit. 

On the second day of their sojourn, as Ben Jones, John Day, 
and others of the hunters were in pursuit of ga.me, they came 
upon an Indian camp on the open prairie, near to a small 
stream v/hicli ran through a ravine. The tents or lodges were 
of dressed buffalo skins, sewn together and stretched on taper- 
ing pine poles, joined at top, but radiating at bottom, so as to 
form a circle capable of admitting fifty persons. Numbers of 
horses were grazing in the neighborhood of the camp, or 
straying at large in the prairie ; a sight most acceptable to the 
hunters. After reconnoitring the camp for some time they as- 
certained it to belong to a band of Cheyenne Indians, the 
same that had sent a deputation to the Arickaras. They 
received the hunters in the most friendly manner; invited 
them to their lodges, which Avere more cleanly than Indian 
lodges are prone to be, and set food before them with true un- 
civilized hospitality. Several of them accompanied the hunters 
back to the camp, when a trade vv^as immediately opened. The 
Cheyennes were astonished and deUghted to find a convoy of 
goods and trinkets thus brought into the very heart of the 
prairie ; while Mr. Hunt and his companions were overjoyed 
to have an opportunity of obtaining a further supply of horses 
from these equestrian savages. 

During a fortnight that the travellers lingered at this place, 
their encampment was continually thronged by the Cheyennes. 
They were a civil, well-behaved people, cleanly in their persons 
and decorous in their habits. The men were tall, straight, and 
vigorous, with aquiline noses and high cheek bones. Some 
w^erc almost as naked as ancient statues, and might have stood 
as models for statuary ; others had leggins and moccasons of 
deer skin, and buffalo robes, which they threw gracefully over 
their shoulders. In a little while, how^ever, they began to ap- 
pear in more gorgeous array, tricked out in the finery obtained 
from the white men — bright cloths, brass rings, beads of 
various colors, and happy was he who could render liimself 
hideous with vermQlion. 

The travellers had frequent occasion to admire the skill and 
grace with v/hieh these Indians managed their horses. Some 
of them made a striking display when mounted, themselves 
and their steeds decorated in gala style ; for the Indians often 
bestow more finery upon their horses than upon themselves. 



174 ASTORIA. 

Some would hang round the necks, or rather on the breasts of 
their horses, the most precious ornaments they Lad obtained 
from the white men ; others interwove feathers in their manes 
and taU'".. The Indian horses, too, appear to have an attach- 
ment to their wild riders, and indeed it is said that the horses 
of the i)rairies readily distinguish an Indian from a white man 
by the smell, and give a preference to the former. Yet the 
Indians, in general, are hard riders, and, however they may 
value their horses, treat them with great roughness and neg- 
lect. Occasionally the Cheyennes joined the white hunters in 
pursuit of the elk and buffalo; and vv^hen in the ardor of the 
chase, spared neither themselves nor their steeds, scouring the 
prairies at full speed, and plunging down precipices and fright- 
ful ravines that threatened the necks of both horse and horse- 
man. The Indian steed, well trained to the chase, seems as 
mad as his rider, and pursues the game as eagerly as if it Avero 
his natural prey, on the flesh of which he was to banquet. 

The history of the Cheyennes is that of many of those wan- 
dering tribes of the prairies. They were the remnant of a 
once powerful people called the Shaways, inhabiting a branch 
of the Eed Eiver which flows into Lake Winnipeg. Every 
Indian tribe has some rival tribe with which it wages implaca- 
ble hostility. The deadly enemies of the Shaways were the 
Sioux, who, after a long course of warfare, proved too power- 
ful for them, and drove them across the Missouri. They again 
took root near the Warricanne Creek, and established them- 
selves there in a fortified village. 

The Sioux still followed them with deadly animosity ; dis- 
lodged them from their village, and compelled them to take 
refuge in the Black Hills, near the upper waters of the Shey- 
enne or Cheyenne Eiver. Here they lost even their name, and 
became known a.mong the French colonists by that of the river 
they frequented. 

The heart of the tribe was now broken ; its numbers were 
greatly thinned by their harassing wars. They no longer at- 
tempted to establish themselves in any permanent abode that 
might be an object of attack to their cruel foes. They gave up 
the cultivation of the fruits of the earth, and became a wan- 
dering tribe, subsisting by the chase, and following the buffalo 
in its migrations. 

Their only possessions were horses, wliich they caught on 
the prairies, or reared, or captured on predatory incursions 
into the Mexican territories, as has already been mentioned. 



AsrouiA. 175 

With some of these they repaired once a year to the Arickara 
villages, exchanged them for corn, beans, pumpkins, and arti- 
cles of Euroi)ean merchandise, and then returned into the 
heart of the j^rairies. 

Such are the fluctuating fortunes of these savage nations. 
War, famine, pestilence, together or singly, bring down their 
strengi;h and thin their numbers. Whole tribes are rooted up 
from their native places^ wander for a time about these im- 
mense regions, become amalgamated with other tribes, or dis- 
appear from the face of tlie earth. There appears to be a ten- 
dency to extinction among all the savage nations; and this 
tendency would seem to liave been in operation among the 
aboriginals of this country long before the advent of the white 
men, if we may judge from the traces and traditions of ancient 
populousness in regions which were silent and deserted at the 
time of the discovery; and from the mysterious and perplex- 
ing vestiges of unknov>m races, predecessors of those found in 
actual possession, and who must long since have become grad- 
ually extinguished or been destroyed. The whole history of 
the aboriginal population of this country, hoAvever, is an 
enigma, and a grand one — will it ever be solved? 



CHxVPTER XXIV. 



On the sixth of August the travellers bade farewell to the 
friendly band of Cheyennes and resumed their journey. As 
they had obtained thirty-six additional horses by their recent 
traffic, Mr. Hunt made a new arrangement. The baggage was 
made up in smaller loads. A horse was allotted to each of the 
six prime hunters, and others were distributed among the voy- 
ageurs, a horse for every two, so that they could ride and walk 
alternately. Mr. Crooks, being still too feeble to mount the 
saddle, was carried on a litter. 

Their march this day lay among singular hills and knolls of 
an indurated red earth, resembling brick, about the bases of 
which were scattered pumice stones and cinders, the whole 
bearing traces of the action of fire. In the evening they en- 
camped on a branch of Big River. 

They were now out of the tract of country infested by the 
Sioux, and had advanced such a distance into the interior that 



176 ASTORIA. 

Mr. Hunt no longer felt apprehensive of the desertion of any 
of his men. He was doomed, "however, to experience new 
cause of anxiety. As he was seated in his tent after night- 
fall, one of the men came to him privately, and informed iiini 
that there was mischief brewing in the camp. Edward Rose, 
the interpreter, whose sinister looks we have already men- 
tioned, was denounced by this secret informer as a designing, 
treacherous scoundrel, who was tampering with the fidelity of 
certain of the men, and instigating them to a flagrant piece of 
treason. In the course of a few days they would arrive at the 
mountainous district infested by the Upsarokas or Crows, the 
tribe among which Rose was to officiate as interpreter. His 
plan was that several of the men should join with him, when 
in that neighborhood, in carrying off a number of the horses 
with their packages of goods, and deserting to those savages. 
He assured them of good treatment among the Crows, the 
principal chiefs and warriors of whom he knew ; they would 
soon become great men among them, and have the finest 
women, and the daughters of the chiefs, for wives; and the 
horses and goods they carried off would make them rich for 
life. 

The intelligence of this treachery on the part of Rose gave 
much disquiet to Mr. Hunt, for he knew not how far it might 
be effective among his men. He had already had proofs that 
several of them were disaffected to the enterprise, and loath 
to cross the mountains. He knew also that savage life had 
charms for many of them, especially the Canadians, who were 
prone to intermarry and domesticate themselves among the 
Indians. 

And here a word or two concerning the Crows may be of 
service to the reader, as they will figure occasionally m the 
succeeding narration. 

The tribe consists of four bands, which have their nestling 
places in fertile, well- wooded valleys, lying among the Rocky 
Mountains, and watered by the Big Horse River and its tribu- 
tary streams; but, though these are properly their homes, 
where they shelter their old people, their wives, and their 
children, the men of the tribe are aimost continually on the 
foray and the scamper. They are, in fact, notorious marauders 
and horse-stealers ; crossing and recrossing the moim tains, 
robbing on the one side, and conveying their spoils to the 
other. Hence, we are told, is derived their name, given to 
them on account of their unsettled and predatory habits ; wing' 



A8T0RIA. 177 

ing their flight, hke the crows, from one side of the mountains 
to the other, and making free booty of everything that hes in 
their way. Horses, however, are the especial objects of their 
depredations, and their skill and audacity in stealing them are 
said to be astonishing. This is their glory and delight ; an ac- 
compUshed horse-stealer fills up their idea of a hero. Many 
horses are obtained by them, also, in barter from tribes in and 
beyond the mountains. They have an absolute passion for 
this noble animal ; besides which he is with them an important 
object of traffic. Once a year they make a visit to the Mandans, 
Minatarees, and other tribes of the Missouri, taking with them 
droves of horses wliich they exchange for guns, ammunition, 
trinkets, vermilion, cloths of bright colors, and various other 
articles of European manufacture. With these they supply 
their own wants and caprices, and carry on the internal trade 
for horses already mentioned. 

The plot of Rose to rob and abandon his countrymen when in 
the heart of the wilderness, and to throw himself into the hands 
of a horde of savages, may appear strange and improbable to 
those unacquainted with the singular and anomalous characters 
that are to be found about the borders. This fellow, it appears, 
was one of those desperadoes of the frontiers, outlawed by 
their crimes, who combine the vices of civilized and savage 
life, and are ten times mere barbarous than the Indians with 
whom they consort. Rose ha.d formerly belonged to one of 
the gangs of pirates who infested the islands of the Mississippi^ 
phmdering boats as they went up and down the river, and who 
sometimes shifted the scene of their robberies to the shore, 
waylaying travellers as the:^ returned by land from New 
Orleans with the proceeds of their downward voyage, phmder- 
ing them of their money and effects, and often perpetrating the 
most atrocious murders. 

These hordes of villains being broken up and dispersed. Rose 
had betaken himself to the wilderness, and associated himself 
with the Crows, whose predatory habits were congenial with 
his ov.ai, had married a woman of the tribe, and, in short, had 
identified himself with those vagrant savages. 

Such was the worthy guide and interpreter, Edward Rose. 
We give his story, however, not as it was known to Mr. Himt 
and his companions at the time, but as it has been subsequently 
ascertained. Enough was known of the fellow and his dark 
and perfidious character to put Mr. Hunt upon his guard ; still, 
as there was no knowing how far his plans might have sue- 



178 ASTORIA. 

ceeded, and as any rash act might blow the mere smouldering 
sparks of treason into a sudden blaze, it was thought advisable 
by those with whom Mr. Hunt consulted, to conceal all knowl- 
edge or susi-icioii of the meditated treachery, but to keep up a 
vigilant watch uj^on the movements of Kose, and a strict guard 
upon the horses at night. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



The plains over which the travellers were journeying con- 
sjnued to be destitute of trees or even shrubs ; insomuch that 
\3.^ey had to use the dung of the buffalo for fuel, as the Arabs of 
tne desert use that of the camel. This substitute for fuel is 
universal among the Indians of these upper prairies, and is 
said to make a lire equal to that of turf. If a few chips are 
added, it throws out a cheerful and kindly blaze. 

"■rhese plains, however, had not always been equally destitute 
of wood, as was evident from the trunks of the trees which 
the travellers repeatedly met with, some still standing, others 
lying about in broken fragments, but all in a fossil state, having 
flourished in times long past. In these singular remains, 
the original grain of the wood was still so distinct that they 
coukf be ascertained to be the ruins of oak trees. Several 
pieces of the fossil Avood were selected by the men to serve as 
whetstones. 

In ttiis part of the journey there was no lack of provisions, 
for the prairies were covered with immense herds of buffalo. 
These, in general, are animals of peaceful demeanor, grazing 
quietly like domestic cattle ; but this was the season when they 
are in heat, and when the bulls are usually fierce and pugT.a- 
cious. xhere was accordingly a universal restlessness and 
commotion throughout the plain ; and the amorous herds gave 
utterance to their feelings in low bellowings that resounded 
like distant thunder. Here and there fierce duellos took place 
between rival enamorados ; butting their huge shagged fronts 
together, goring each other with their short black horns, and 
tearing up the earth v/ith tlieir feet in perfect fury. 

In one of the evening halts, Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, 
together with Carson and Gardpie, two of the hunters, were 
missing, nor had they returned by morning. As it was sup- 



A8T0BIA. 179 

posed they had wandered awa^y in pursuit of buffalo, and would 
readily find the track of the party, no solicitude was felt on 
their account. A fire was left burning, to guide them by its 
column of smoke, and the travellers proceeded on their march. 
In the evening a signal fire was made on a hill adjacent to the 
camp, and in the morning it was replenished with fuel so as to 
last throughout the day. These signals a.re usual among the 
Indians, to give warnings to each other, or to call home strag- 
ghng hunters ; and such is the transparency of the atmosphere 
in those elevated plains, that a slight column of smoke can be 
discerned from a great distance, particularly in the evenings. 
Two or three days elapsed, however, without the reappearance 
of the three hunters; and Mr. Hunt slackened his march to 
give them time to overtake him. 

A vigilant watch continued to be kept upon the movements 
of Rose, and of such of the men as were considered doubtful in 
their loyalty ; but nothing occurred to excite innnediate appre- 
hensions. Rose evidently was not a favorite among liis com- 
rades, and it was hoped that he had not been able to make any 
real partisans. 

On the 10th of August they encamped among hills, on the 
highest peak of which Mr. Hunt caused a huge pyre of pine 
wood to be made, which soon sent up a great column of flame 
that might be seen far and ^\dde over the prairies. This fire 
blazed aU night and was amply replenished at daybreak ; so 
that the towering piUar o^ smoke could not but be descried by 
the wanderers if within the distance of a day's journej^ 

It is a common occurrence in these regions, where the 
features of the country so much resemble each other, for 
hunters to lose themselves and wander for many days, before 
they can find their way back to the main body of their party. 
In the present instance, however, a more than common solici- 
tude was felt, in consequence of the distrust awakened by the 
sinister designs of Rose. 

The route now became excessively toilsome, over a ridge 
of steep rocky hills, covered with loose stones. These were 
intersected by deep valleys, formed by two branches of Big 
River, coming from the south of west, both of which they 
crossed. These streams were bordered by meadows, well 
stocked with buffaloes. Loads of meat were brought in by 
the hunters ; but the travellers were rendered dainty by profu- 
sion, and would cook only the choice pieces. 

They had now travelled for several days at a very slow rate, 



180 A8T01UA 

and had made signal nres and left traces of their route at 
every stage, yet nothing was heard or seen of the lost men. 
It began to be feared that they miglit have fallen into the 
hands of some lurking band of savages. A party numerous 
as that of Mr. Hunt, with a long train of pack-horses, moving 
across open plains or naked hills, is discoverable at a great 
distance by Indian scouts, who spread the intelligence rapidly 
to various points, and assemble their friends to hang about 
the skirts of the travellers, steal their horses, or cut off any 
stragglers from the main body. 

Mr. Hunt and his companions were more and more sensible 
how much it would be in the power of this sullen and daring 
vagabond Rose, to do them mischief, when they should become 
entangled in the defiles of the mountains, with the passes of 
which they were wholly unacquainted, and which were in- 
fested by his freebooting friends, the Crows. There, should 
he succeed in seducing some of the party into his plans, he 
might carry off the best horses and effects, throw himself 
among his savage allies, and set all pursuit at defiance. Mr. 
Hunt resolved therefore to frustrate the knave, divert him, by 
management, from his plans, and make it sufficiently advan- 
tageous for liim to remain honest. He took occasion accord- 
ingly, in the course of conversation, to inform Rose that, 
having engaged him chiefly as a guide and interpreter through 
the country of the Crows, they wguld not stand in need of 
his services beyond. Knowing, therefore, his connection by 
marriage with that tribe, and his predilection for a residence 
among them, they would put no restraint upon his will, but, 
whenever they met with a party of that people, would leave 
him at liberty to remain among his adopted brethren. 
Furthermore, that, in thus parting with him, they would pay 
him half a year's wages in consideration of his past services, 
and would give him a horse, three beaver traps, and sundry 
other articles calculated to set him up in the world. 

This unexpected liberality, which made it nearly as profita- 
ble and infinitely leps hazardous for Rose to remain honest 
than to play the rogue, completely disarmed him. From that 
time his whole deportment underwent a change. His brow 
cleared up and appeared more cheerful ; he left off his sullen, 
skulking habits, and made no further attempts to tamper with 
the faith of his comrades. 

On the 13th of August Mr. Hunt varied his course, and in- 
elined westward, in hopes of falling in with the three lost 



4.ST0nTA. ISl 

hiiFxters, who, it was now thought, might have kept to the 
right hand of Big River. This course soon brought h'm to a 
fork of the Little Missouri, about a hundred yards wide, and 
resemblmg the great river of the game name in the streng-th of 
its current, its turbid water, and the frequency of drift-wood 
and sunken treey. 

Rugged mountains appeared ahead, crowding down to the 
water edge, and offering a barrier to further jDrogress on the 
side they were ascending. Crossing the river, therefore, they 
encamped on its northw^est banlv, v/liere they found good pas- 
turage and buffalo in abundance. The weatlier v\^as overcast 
and rainy, and a general gloom pervaded the camp ; the voy- 
ageurs sat smoking in groups, with their shoulders as high as 
their heads, croaking their f oreboduigs, Avhen suddenly toward 
evening a shout of joy gave notice that the lost men were 
found. They came slowly lagging into the camp, with weary 
looks, and horses jaded and 'wayworn. They had, in fact, 
been for several days incessantly on the move. In their hunt- 
ing excursion on the prairies they had pushed so far in pursuit 
of buffalo as to find it impossible to retrace their steps over 
plains trampled by innumerable herds, and were bafffed by 
the monotony of the landscape in their attempts to recall 
landmarks. They had ridden to and fro until thej^ had almost 
lost the points of the compass, and become totally bewildered ; 
nor did they ever perceive any of the signal fires and columns 
of smoke made by their comrades. At length, about tw» 
days previously, when almost spent by anxiety and hard 
riding, they came, to their great joy, upon the ''trail" of the 
party, which they had since followed up steadily. 

Those only who have experienced the warm cordiality that 
gi'ows up between comrades in wild and adventurous expedi- 
tions of the kind, can picture to themselves the hearty cheer= 
ing with which the strag,£:lers were welcomed to the camp. 
Every one crowded rounvd them to ask questions, and to hear 
the story of their mishaps ; and even the squaw of the moody 
half-breed, Pierre Dorion, forgot the sternness of his domestic 
rule, and the conjugal discipline of the cudgel, in her joy at 
his safe return. 



182 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTEE XXVI. 

Mr. Hunt and his party were now on the skirts of the Black 
Hills, or Black Mountains, as they are sometimes called ; an 
extensive chain, lying about a hundred miles east of the Rocky 
Mountains, and stretching in a northeast direction from the 
south fork of the Nebraska or Platte River, to the great north 
bend of the Missouri. The Sierra or ridge of the Black Hills, 
in fact, forms the dividing line between the waters of the 
Missouri and those of the Arkansas and the Mississippi, and 
gives rise to the Cheyenne, the Little Missouri, and several 
tributary streams of the Yellowstone. 

The wild recesses of these hills, like those of the Rocky 
Mountains, are retreats and lurking-places for broken and pre- 
datory tribes, and it was among them that the remnant of the 
Cheyenne tribe took refuge, as has been stated, from their 
conquering enemies, the Sioux. 

The Black Hills are chiefly composed of sandstone, and in 
many places are broken into savage cliffs and precipices, and 
present the most singular and fantastic forms ; sometimes re- 
sembling towns and castellated fortresses. The ignorant in- 
kabitants of plains are prone to clothe the mountains that 
bound their horizon with fanciful and superstitious attributes. 
Thus the wandering tribes of the prairies, who often behold 
clouds gathering round the summits of these hills, and light- 
ning flashing, and thunder pealing from them, when all the 
neighboring plains are serene and sunny, consider them the 
abode of the genii or thunder-spirits, who fabricate storms and 
tempests. On entering their defiles, therefore, they often 
hang offerings on the trees, or place them on the rocks, to 
propitiate the invisible "lords of the mountains, " and procure 
good weather and successful hunting ; and they attach unusual 
si.:^'nificance to the echoes which haunt the precipices. This 
superstition may also have arisen, in pait, from a natural 
phenomenon of a singular nature. In the most calm and 
serene weather, and at all times of the day or night, successive 
reports are now and then heard among these mountains, re- 
sembling the discharge of several pieces of artillery. Similar 
reports were heard by Messrs. Lewis and Clarke in the Rocky 



ASTORIA. 183 

Mountains, which they say were attributed by the Indians to 
the bursting of the rich mines of silver contained in the bosom 
of the mountains. 

In fact these singular explosions have, received fanciful 
explanations from learned men, and have not been satisfac- 
torily accounted for even by philosophers. They are said to 
occur frequently in Brazil. Vasconcelles, a Jesuit father, 
describes one which he heard in the Sierra, or mountain region 
of Piratininga, and which he compares to the discharges of a 
park of artillery. The Indians told him that it was an ex- 
plosion of stones. The worthy father had soon a satisfactory 
proof of the truth of their information, for the very place was 
found where a rock had burst and exploded from its entrails a 
stony mass, like a bomb-shell, and of the size of a bull's heart. 
This mass was broken either in its ejection or its fall, and 
■wonderful was the internal organization revealed. It had a 
shell harder even than iron ; within which were arranged, like 
the seeds of a pomegranate, jewels of various colors; some 
transparant as crystal; others of a fine red, and others of 
mixed hues. The same iDhenomenon is said to occur occasion- 
al]y in the adjacent province of Guayra, where stones of the 
bigness of a man's hand are exploded, with a loud noise, from 
the bosom of the earth, and scatter about glittering and beau- 
tiful fragments that look like precious gems, but are of no 
value. 

The Indians of the Orellanna, also, tell of horrible noises 
heard occasionally in the Paraguaxo, which they consider the 
throes and groans of the mountain, endeavoring to cast forth 
the precious stones hidden vdthin its entrails. Others have 
endeavored to account for these discharges of "mountain 
artillery" on humbler principles ; attributing them to the loud 
reports made by the disruption and fall of great masses of 
rock, reverberated and prolonged by the echoes ; others, to the 
disengagement of hydrogen, produced by subterraneous beds 
of coal in a state of ignition. In whatever way this singular 
phenomenon may be accounted for, the existence of it appears 
to be well established. It remains one of the lingering mys- 
teries of nature Y»"hich throw something of a supernatural 
charm over her wild mountain solitudes; and we doubt 
whether the imaginative reader v/ill not rather join with the 
poor Indian in attributing it to the thunder-spirits, or the guar- 
dian genii of unseen treasures, than to any commonplace phy- 
sical cause. 



184 ASTORIA, 

Whatever miglit be the supernatural influences among these 
mountains, the travellers found their physical difficulties hard 
to cope with. They made repeated attempts to find a pavssage 
through or over the chain, but were as often turned back by 
impassable barriers. Sometimes a defile seemed to open a 
practicable path, but it would terminate in some wild chaos cf 
rocks and cliffs, which it was impossible to climb. The ani- 
mals of these solitary regions were different from those they 
had been accustomed to. The black-tailed deer would bound 
up the ravines on their approach, and the bighorn vroald gazo 
fearlessly down upon them from some impending precipice, or 
skip playfully from rock to rock. These animals are only to 
be met with in mountainous regions. The former is larger 
than the common deer, but its flesh is not equally esteemed by 
hunters. It has very large ears, and the tip of the tail is 
black, from which it derives its name. 

The bighorn is so named from its horns, which are of a great 
size, and twisted like those of a ram. It is called by some the 
argali, by others, the ibex, though differing from both of these 
animals. The Mandans call it the ahsahta, a name much bet- 
ter than the clumsy appellation which it generally bears. It 
is of the size of a small elk, or large deer, and of a dun color, 
excepting the belly and round the tail, where it is white. In 
its habits it resembles the goat, frequenting the rudest preci- 
pices; cropping the herbage from their edges; and, like the 
chamois, bounding lightly and securely among dizzy heights, 
where the hunter dares not venture. It is difficult, therefore, 
to get within shot of it. Ben Jones the hunter, however, in 
one of the passes of the Black Hills, succeeded in bringing 
down a bighorn from the verge of a precipice, the flesh of 
which was pronounced by the gourmands of the camp to have 
the flavor of excellent mutton. 

Baffled in his attempts to tra^verse this mountain chain, Mr. 
Hunt skirted along it to the southwest, keeping it on the right, 
and still in hopes of finding an opening. At an early hour one 
day, he encamped in a narrow valley on the banks of a beauti- 
fully clear but rushy pool, surrounded by thickets bearing 
abundance of wild cherries, currants, and yellow and purple 
gooseberries. 

While the afternoon's meal was in preparation, Mr. Hunt 
and Mr. M'Kenzie ascended to the summit of the nearest hill, 
from whence, aided by the purity and transparency of the 
evening atmosphere, they commanded a vast pro?:pect on all 



ASTORIA, 185 

sides. Below them extended a plain, dotted with innumerable 
herds of buffalo. Some were lying down among the herbage, 
others roaming in their unbounded pastures, while many were 
engaged in fierce contests like those already described, their 
low bellos'/ings reaching the ear like the hoarse murmurs of 
the surf of a distant shore. 

Far off in the west they descried a range of lofty mountains 
printing the clear hoiizon, some of them evidently capped 
with snow. These they supposed to be the Big Horn Moun- 
tains, so called from the animal of that name, with which they 
abound. They are a spur of the great Rocky chain. The hill 
from whence Mr. Hunt had this prospect Avas, according to his 
computation, about two hundred and fifty miles from the 
Arickara village. 

On returning to the camp Mr. Hunt found some uneasi- 
ness prevailing among the Canadian voyageurs. In straying 
among the thickets they had beheld tracks of grizzly bears in 
every direction, doubtless attracted thither by the fruit. To 
their dismay, they now found that they had encamped in 
one of the favorite resorts of this dreaded animal. The idea 
marred all the comfort of the encampment. As night closed, 
the surrounding thickets were peopled with terrors ; insomuch 
that, according to Mr. Hunt, they could not help starting at 
every little breeze that stirred the bushes. 

The grizzly bear is the only really formidable quadruped of 
our continent. He is the favorite theme of the hunters of the 
far West, who describe him as equal in size to a common cow 
and of prodigious strength. He makes battle if assailed, and 
often, if pressed by hunger, is the assailant. If wounded, he 
becomes furious and will pursue the hunter. His speed ex- 
ceeds that of a man, but is inferior to that of a horse. In at- 
tacking he rea.rs himself on his hind legs, and springs the 
length of his body. Woe to horse or rider that comes within 
the sweep of his terrific claws, which are sometimes nine 
inches in length, and tear everything before them. 

At the time we are treating of, the grizzly bear was still fre- 
quent on the Missouri, and in the lower country, but, like 
some of the broken tribes of the prairie, he has gradually fallen 
back before his enemies, and is now chiefly to be found in the 
upland regions, in rugged fastnesses, like those of the Black 
Hills and the Rocky Mountains. Here he lurks in caverns, or 
holes which he has digged in the sides of hills, or under the 
roots and trunks of fallen trees. Like the common bear he is 



;^gg ASTOJUA. 

fond of fruits, and mast, and roots, the latter of which he will 
dig up with his fere claws. He is carnivorous also, and will 
even attack and conquer the lordly buffalo, dragging his huge 
carcass to the neighborhood of his den, that he may prey upon 
it at his leisure. 

The hunters, both white and red men, consider this the most 
heroic game. They prefer to hunt him on horseback, and will 
venture so near as sometimes to singe his hair with the flash Ox 
the rifle. The hunter of the grizzly bear, however, must be 
an experienced hand, and know where to aim at a vital part ; 
for of all quadrupeds he is the most difficult to be kill(jd. He 
will receive repeated wounds without flinching, and rarely is 
a shot mortal imless through the head or heart. 

That the dangers apprehended from the grizzly bear, at this 
night encampment, were not imaginary, was proved on the 
following morning. Among the hired men of the party was 
one William Cannon, who had been a soldier at one of the 
frontier posts, and entered into the employ of Mr. Hunt at 
Mackinaw. He was an inexperienced hunter and a poor shot, 
for which he was much bf.ntered by his more adroit comrades. 
Piqued at their raiUery, he had been practising ever since he 
had joined the expedition, but without success. In the course 
of the present afternoon, he went forth by himself to take a 
lesson in venerie, and, to his great delight, had the good for- 
tune to kill a buffalo. As he was a considerable distance from 
the camp, he cut out the tongue and some of the choice bits, 
made them into a parcel, and, slinging them on his shoulders 
by a strap passed round his forehead, as the voyageurs carry 
packages of goods, set out all glorious for the camp, anticipat- 
ing a triumph over his brother hunters. In passing through 
a narrow ravine he heard a noise behind him, and looking 
round beheld, to his dismay, a grizzly bear in full pursuit, ap- 
parently attracted by the scent of the meat. Cannon had 
heard so much of the invulncrabihty of this tremendous anl 
mal, that he never attempted to fire, but, slipping the strap 
from his forehead, let go the buffalo meat and ran for his 
life. The bear did not stop to regale himself with the game, 
but kept on after the hunter. He had nearly overtaken him 
when Cannon reached a tree, and, throwing down his rifle, 
scrambled up it. The next instant Bruin was at the foot of 
the tree ; but, as this species of bear does not climb, he con- 
tented himself with turning the chase into a blockade. Night 
came on. In the darkness Cannon could not perceive whctlier 



ASTORIA. 187 

or not the enemy maintained his station ; but his fears pic- 
tured him rigorously mounting guard. He passed the night, 
therefore, in the tree, a prey to dismal fancies. In the morn- 
ing the bear was gone. Cannon warily descended the tree, 
gathered up his gun, and made the best of his way back to 
the camp, without venturing to look after his buffalo meat. 

While on this theme we will add another anecdote of an ad 
venture with a grizzly bear, told of John Day, the Kentucky' 
Kunter, but which happened at a different period of the expe 
dition. Day was hunting in company with one of the clerkn 
of the company, a hvely youngster, who was a great favorite 
with the veteran, but whose vivacity he had continually to 
keep in check. They were in search of deer, when suddenly £j 
huge grizzly bear emerged from a thicket about thirty yards 
distant, rearing himself upon his hind legs with a terrifie 
growl, and displaying a hideous array of teeth and claws. 
The rifle of the young man was levelled in an instant, but 
John Day's iron hand was as quickly upon his arm. "Be 
quiet, boy! be quiet!" exclaimed the hunter, between his 
clenched teeth, and without turning his eyes from the bear. 
They remained motionless. The monster regarded them for 
a time, then, lowering himself on his fore paws, slowly with- 
drew. He had not gone many paces before he again turned, 
reared himself on his hind legs, and repeated his menace. 
Day's hand was still on the arm of his young companion ; he 
again pressed it hard, and kept repeating between his teeth, 
*' Quiet, boy !— keep quiet !— keep quiet !" though the latter had 
not made a move since his first prohibition. The bear again 
lowered himself on all fours, retreated some twenty yards 
further, and again turned, reared, showed his teeth, and 
growled. This third menace was too much for the game 
spirit of John Day. "By Jove!" exclaimed he, "I can stand 
this no longer," and in an instant a ball from his rifle whizzed 
into the foe. The wound was not mortal ; but, luckily, it dis- 
mayed instead of enraging the animal, and he retreated into 
the thicket. 

Day's young companion reproached him for not practising 
the caution which he enjoined upon others. "Why, boy," 
replied the veteran, "caution is caution, but one must not put 
up v,^ith too much even from a bear. Would you have me suf- 
fer myself to be bullied all day by a varmint?" 



188 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

For the two following days the travellers pursued a west* 
crly course for thirty -four rniles along a ridge of country divid' 
lag the tributary waters of the Missouri and the Yellowstone. 
A s landmarks they guided themselves by the summits of the 
far distant mountains, which they supposed to belong to the 
Big Horn chain. They were gradually rising into a higher 
temperature, for the v/eather was cold for the season, %vith a 
sharp frost in the night, and ice of an eighth of an inch in 
thickness. 

On the twenty-second of August, early in the day, they came 
iroon the trail of a numerous band. Eose and the other hunters 
examined the footprints with great attention, and determined 
it jO be the trail of a party of Crows returning from an annual 
trading visit to the Mandans. As this trail afforded more 
commodious travelling, they immediately struck into it, and 
tollowed it for two days. It led them over rough hills, and 
through broken gullies, during which time they suffered great 
fatigue from the ruggedness of the country. The vv^eather, too, 
which had recently been frosty, was now oppressively warm, 
and there was a great scarcity of water, insomuch that a valu- 
able dog belonging to Mr. M'Kenzie died of thirst. 

At one time they had twenty-five miles of painful travel, 
without a drop of water, until they arrived at a small running 
stream. Here they eagerly slaked their thirst ; but, this being 
allayed, the calls of hunger became equally importunate. 
Ever since they had got among these barren and arid hills, 
where there was a deficiency of grass, they had met with no 
buffaloes, those animals keeping in the grassy meadows near 
tho streams. They were obliged, therefore, to ha,ve recourse to 
their corn meal, which they reserved for such emergencies. 
Some, however, were lucky enough to kill a wolf, w^hich they 
cooked for supx)er, and pronounced excellent food. 

The next morning they resumed their wayfaring, hungry 
and jaded, and had a dogged marcli of eighteen miles among 
the same kind of hiUs. At length they emerged upon a stream 
of clear water, one of tho forks of Powder River, and to their 
great joy beheld once more wide grassy meadows, stocked 



ASTORIA 189 

with herds of buffalo. For several days they kept along the 
banks of the river, ascending it about eighteen miles. It was & 
hunter's paradise ; the buffaloes were in such abundance that 
they were enabled to kill as many as they pleased, and to 
jerk a sufficient supply of meat for several days' journeying. 
Here, then, they revelled and reposed after their hungry and 
weary travel, hunting and feasting, and reclining upon the 
grass. Their quiet, however, v\^as a httle marred by coming 
upon traces of Indians, who, they concluded, must be Crows; 
they were therefore obliged to keep a more vigilant watch than 
ever upon their horses. For several days they had been direct- 
ing their march toward the lofty mountain described by Mr. 
Hunt and Mr. M'Kenzie on the 17th of August, the height of 
which rendered it a landmark over a vast extent of country. 
At first it had appeared to them sohtary and detached ; but as 
they advanced toward it, it proved to be the principal summit 
of a chain of mountains. Day by day it varied in form, or 
rather its lower peaks, and the summits of others of the chain 
emerged above the clear horizon, and finally the inferior line 
of hills which connected most of them rose to view. So far, 
however, are objects discernible m the pure atmosphere of 
these elevated plains, that, from the place where they first 
descried the main mountain, they had to travel a, hundred and 
fifty miles before they reached its base. Here they -encamped 
on the tliirtieth of August, having come nearly four hundred 
miles since leaving the Arickara village. 

The mountain which now towered above them was one of the 
Big Horn chain, bordered by a river of the same name, and 
extending for a long distance rather east of north and west of 
south. It was a part of the great system of granite mountains 
which forms one of the most important and striking features 
of North America, stretching paraUel to the coast of the Pacific 
from the Isthmus of Panama almost to the Arctic Ocean, and 
presenting a corresponding chain to that of the Andes in the 
southern hemisphere. This vast range has acquired, from its 
rugged and broken character, and its summits of naked gran- 
ite, the appellation of the Eocky Mountains, a name by no 
means distinctive, as ail elevated ranges are rocky. Among 
the early explorers it was known as the range of Chippewyan 
Mountains, and this Indian name is the one it is liliely to re- 
tain in poetic usage. Eising from the midst of vast plains and 
prairies, traversing several degrees of latitude, dividing the 
waters of the Atlantic and the Pacific, and seeming to bind 



190 ASTORIA. 

with diverging ridges the level regions on its flanks, it has 
been figuratively termed the backbone of the northern con- 
tinent. 

The Eocky ]\Iountains do not present a range of uniform 
elevation, but rather groups and occasionally detached peaks. 
Though some of these rise to the region of perpetual snows, 
and are upward of eleven thousand feet in real altitude, yet. 
their height from their immediate basis is not so great as might 
be imagined, as they swell up from elevated plains, several 
thousand feet above the level of the ocean. These plains are 
often of a desolate sterility ; mere sandy wastes, formed of the 
detritus of the granite heights, destitute of trees and herbage, 
scorched by the ardent and reflected rays of the summer's sun, 
and in winter swept by chilling blasts from the snow-clad 
mountains. Such is a great part of that vast region extending 
north and south along the mountains, several hundred miles in 
width, which has not improperly been termed the Great Ameri- 
can Desert. It is a region that almost discourages all hope of 
cultivation, and can only be traversed with safety by keeping 
near the streams which intersect it. Extensive plains likewise 
occur among the higher regions of the mountains, of consider- 
able fertihty. Indeed, these lofty plats of table-land seem to 
form a peculiar feature in the American continents. Some 
occur among the Cordilleras of the Andes, v/here cities and 
towns and cultivated farms are to be seen eight thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. 

The Rocky Mountains, as we have already observed, occur 
sometimes singly or in groups, and occasionally in collateral 
ridges. Between these are deep valleys, with small streams 
winding through them, which flnd their way into the lower 
plains, augmenting as they proceed, and ultimatelj^ discharg- 
ing themselves into those vast rivers which traverse the 
prairies like great arteries and drain the continent. 

While the granitic summits of the Rocky Mountains are 
bleak and bare, many of the inferior ridges are scantily clothed 
with scrubbed pines, oaks, cedar, and furze. Various parts of 
the mountains also bear traces of volcanic action. Some of the 
interior valleys are strewed with scoria and broken stones, 
evidently of volcanic origin; the surrounding rocks bear the 
like character, and vestiges of extinguished craters are to be 
seen on the elevated heights. 

We have ahxady noticed the superstitious feelings with 
which the Indians regard the Black Hills ; but this immense 



ASTORIA. 191 

range of mountains, which divides all that they know of the 
world, and gives birth to such mighty rivers, is 3till more an 
object of awe and veneration. They call it "the crest of the 
world," and think that Wacondah, or the master of hfe, as 
they designate the Supreme Being, has his residence among 
these aerial heights. The tribes on the eastern prairies caU 
them the mountains of the setting sun. Some of them place 
the "happy hunting-grounds," their ideal paradise, among the 
recesses of these mountains ; but say they are invisible to liv- 
ing men. Here also is the " Land of Souls," in which are the 
"towns of the free and generous spirits," where those who 
have pleased the master of life while Uving, enjoy after death 
all manner of delights. 

Wonders are told of these mountains by the distant tribes, 
whose warriors or hunters have ever wandered in their neigh- 
borhood. It is thought by some that, after death, they will 
have to travel to these mountains and ascend one of their high- 
est and most rugged peaks, among rocks, and snows, and tum- 
bhng torrents. After many moons of painful toil they will reach 
the summit, from whence they will have a view over the land 
of souls. There they will see tlie happy hunting-grounds, with 
the souls of the brave and good hving in tents in green mead- 
ows, by bright running streams, or hunting the herds of buffalo, 
and elks, and deer, which have been slain on earth. There, 
too, they will see the villages or towns of the free and generous 
spirits brightening in the midst of delicious prairies. If they 
have acquitted themselves well while hving, they will be per- 
mitted to descend and enjoy this happy country; if otherwise, 
they will but be tantalized with this prospect of it, and then 
hurled back from the mountain to wander about the sandy 
plains, and endure the eternal pangs of unsatisfied thirst and 
hunger. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The travellers had now arrived in the vicinity of the moun- 
tain regions infested by the Crow Indians. These restless 
marauders, as has already been observed, are apt to be con- 
tinually on the prowl about the skirts of the mountains ; and 
even when encamped in some deep and secluded glen, they 



192 ASTORIA. 

keep scouts upon the cliffs and promontories, who, unseen 
themselves, can discern every living thing that moves over the 
subjacent plains and valleys. It was not to be expected that 
our travellers could pass unseen through are gion thus vigi- 
lantly scTitinelled ; accordingly, in the edge of the evening, not 
long after they had encamped at the foot of the Big Horn 
Sierra, a couple of wild-looking beings, scantily clad in skms, 
but weU, armed, and mounted on horses as wild-looking as 
themselves, were seen approaching with great caution from 
among the rocks. They might have been mistaken for two of 
the evil spirits of the mountains so formidable in Indian fable. 

Rose was immediately sent out to hold a parley with them, 
and invite them to the camp. They proved to be two scouts 
from the same band that had been tracked for some days j^ast, 
and which was now encamped at some distance in the folds of 
the mountain. They were easily prevailed upon to come to the 
camp, where they were well received, and, after remaining 
there until late in the evening, departed to make a report of all 
they had seen and experienced to their companions. 

The following day had scarce dawne:! when a troop of these 
wild mountain scamperers came galloping with whoops and 
yells into the camp, bringing an invitation from their chief for 
the white men to visit him. The tents were accordingly struck, 
the horses laden, and the party were soon on the march. The 
Crow horsemen, as they escorted them, appeared to take pride 
in showing off their equestrian skill and hardihood ; careering 
at full speed on their half-sa^\age steeds, and dashing among 
rocks and crags, and up and do .vn the most rugged and dan- 
gerous places with perfect ease and unconcern. 

A ride of sixteen miles brought them, in tlie afternoon, in 
sight of the Crow camp. It was composed of leathern tents, 
pitched in a meadow on the border of a small clear stream at 
the foot of the mountain. A great number of horses were 
grazing in the vicinity, many of them doubtless captured in 
marauding excursions. 

The Crow chieftain came forth to meet his guests with great 
professions of friendship, and conducted them to his tents, 
pointing out, by the way, a convenient place vdiere they might 
fix their camp. No sooner had they done so than Mr. Hunt 
opened some of the packages and made the chief a present of 
a scarlet blanket, and a quantity of powder and ball ; he gave 
him also some knives, trinkets, and tobacco to be distributed 
atnong his v/arriors, with all which the grim votc-ntato seemed 



ASTORIA. 193 

for the time well pleased. As the Crows, however, were reputed 
to oe perfidious in the extreme, and as errant freebooters as the 
bird after which they were so worthily named, and as their gen- 
eral feelings toward the whites were known to be by no means 
friendly, the intercourse with them was conducted with great 
circumspection. 

The following day was passed in trading with the Crows for 
buffalo robes and skins, and in bartering galled and jaded 
horses for others that were in good condition. Some of the 
men also purchased horses on their own account, so that the 
number now amounted to one hundred and twenty-one, most 
of them sound and active and fit for mountain service. 

Their wants bemg supplied, they ceased all further traffic, 
much to the dissatisfaction of the Crows, who became extremely 
urgent to continue the trade, and, finding their importunities 
of no avail, assumed an msolent and menacing tone. All this 
was attributed by Mr. Hunt and his associates to the perfidious 
instigations of Rose the interpreter, who they suspected of the 
desire to foment ill-will between them and the savages, for the 
promotion of Ms nefarious i:)ians, M'Lellan, with his usual 
tranchant mode of deahng out justice, resolved to shoot the 
desperado on the spot in case of any outbreak. Nothing of the 
kind, however, occurred. Tlie Crov/s were probably daunted 
by the resolute though quiet demeanor of the white men, and 
the constant vigilance and armed preparations which they 
maintained ; and Rose, if he really still harbored his knavish 
designs, must have perceived that they were suspected, and, if 
attempted to be carried into effect, might bring ruin on his 
own head. 

The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Hunt proposed to 
resume his journeying. He took a ceremonious leave of the 
Crow chieftain and his vagabond warriors, and according to 
previous arrangements, consigned to their cherishing friend- 
ship and fraternal adoption their worthy confederate. Rose ; 
who, having figured among the water pirates of the Missis- 
fdppi, was well fitted to rise to distinction among the land 
pirates of the Rocky Mountains. 

It is proper to add that the ruffian was well received among 
the tribe, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied with the 
compromise he had made, feeling much more at his ease 
among savages than among white men. It is outcasts from 
civilization, fugitives from justice, and heartless desperadoes 
ef this kind, who sow tiie seeds of enmity and bitterness 



1^4: ASTORIA. 

among the unfortunate tribes of the frontier. There is no 
enemy so implacable against a country or a community as one 
of its own people who has rendered himself an alien by his 

crimes. 

Right glad to be relieved from this treacherous companion, 
Mr. Hunt x^ursued his course along the skirts of the mountain, 
in a southern direction, seeking for some practicable defile by 
which he might pass through it; none such presented, how- 
ever, in the course of fifteen miles, and he encamped on a 
small stream, still on the outskirts. The green meadows 
which border these mountain streams are generally well 
stocked with game, and the hunters soon killed several fat 
elks, which supplied the camp with fresh meat. In the even- 
ing the travellers were surprised by an unwelcome visit from 
several Crows belonging to a different band from that which 
they had recently left, and who said their camp was among 
the mountains. The consciousness of being environed by such 
dangerous neighbors, and of being still within the range of 
Rose and his fellow ruffians, obliged the party to be continu- 
ally on the alert, and to maintain Aveary vigils throughout the 
night, lest they should be robbed of their horses. 

On the third of September, finding that the mountain still 
stretched onward, presenting a continued barrier, they en- 
deavored to force a i)assage to the westward, but soon became 
entangled among rocks and precipices which set all their 
efforts at defiance. The mountain seemed, for the most part, 
rugged, bare, and sterile; yet here and there it Avas clothed 
Avith pines and Avith shrubs and floAvering plants, some of 
which were in bloom. In toiling among these v/eary places 
their thirst became excessive, for no Avater was to be met Avith. 
Numbers of the men wandered off into rocky dells and raA^.nes 
in hopes of finding some brook or fountain; some of Avhom lost 
their Avay and did not rejoin the main party. 

After half a day of painful and fruitless scrambling, Mr, 
Hunt gave up the attempt to penetrate in this direction, and 
returning to the little stream on the skirts of the mountain, 
pitched his tents within six miles of his encampment of the 
preceding night. He uoaa^ ordered that signals should be made 
for the stragglers in quest of Avater, but the night passed away 
without their return. 

The next morning, to their surprise, Rose made his appear- 
ance at the camp, accompanied by some of his CroAv associates. 
His unwelcome visit reviA^ed their suspicions; but he an' 



ASTOniA. 



195 



nounced liimseli as a messenger of good will from the chief 
who, finding they had taken a wrong road, had sent Rose and 
his companions to guide them to a nearer and better one across 
the mountain. 

Having no choice, being themselves utterly at fault, they set 
out under this questionable escort. They had not gone far be- 
fore they fell in %vith the whole party of Crows, who, they now 
found, were going the same road with themselves. The two 
cavalcades of white and red men, therefore, pushed on to- 
gether, and presented a wild and picturesque spectacle, as 
equipped with various weapons and in various garbs, with 
trains of pack-horses, they wound in long fines through the 
rugged defiles, and up and doAvn the crags and steeps of the 
mountain. 

The travellers had again an opportunity to see and admire 
the equestrian habitudes and address of this hard-riding tribe. 
They were aU mounted, man, woman, and child, for the Crows 
have horses in abundance, so that no one goes on foot. The 
children are perfect imps on horseback. Among them was 
one so young that he could not yet speak. He was tied on a 
colt of two years old, but managed the reins as if by instinct, 
and plied the whip with true Indian prodigality. Mr. Hunt 
inquired the age of this infant jockey, and was answered that 
''he had seen two winters." 

This is almost realizing the fable of the centaurs ; nor can 
we wonder at the equestrian adroitness of these savages, who 
are thus in a manner cradled in the saddle, and become in in- 
fancy almost identified with the animal they bestride. 

The mountain defiles were exceedingij^ rough and broken, 
and the travelling painful to the burdened horses. The party, 
therefore, proceeded but slowly, and were gradually left be- 
hind by the band of Crows, who had taken the lead. It is 
more than probable that Mr. Hunt loitered in his course, to get 
rid of sucli doubtful feliow-travellors. Certain it is that he felt 
a sensation of relief as he saw the whole crew, the renegade 
Rose and all, disappear among the windincrs of the mountain, 
and heard the last yelp of the savages die away in the dis- 
tance. 

When they were fairly out of sight, and out of hearing, he 
encamped on the head waters of the little stream of the pre- 
ceding day, having come about sixteen miles. Here he re- 
mained all the succeeding day, as well to give time for the 
Crows to get in the advance, as for the stragglers, who had 



196 ASTOJUA. 

wandered away in quest of water two days previouslj^ to re- 
join tlie camp. Indeed, considerable uneasiness began to be 
feit concerning these men, lest they should become utterly be- 
wildered in the defiles of the mountains, or should fall into the 
hands of some marauding band of savages. Some of the most 
experienced hunters were sent in search of them, others, in the 
mean time, employed themselves in hunting. The narrow 
valley in which they encamped, being watered by a running 
stream, yielded fresh pasturage, and, though in the heart of 
the Big Horn Mountains, was well stocked with builalo. 
Several of these were killed, as also a grizzly bear. In the 
evening, to the satisfaction of all parties, the stragglers made 
their appearance, and provisions being in abundance, there 
was hearty good cheer in the camp. 



CHAPTER XXIX 



Resuming their course on the folloAving morning, Mr. Hunt 
and his companions continued on westward through a rugged 
region of hills and rocks, but diversified in many places by 
gi-assy little glens, with springs of water, bright sparkling 
brooks, clumps of pine trees, and a profusion of flowering 
plants, v/hich were in full bloom, although the weather was 
frosty. These beautiful and verdant recesses, running through 
and softening the rugged mountains, were cheering and re- 
freshing to the v/ay-worn travellers. 

In the course of the morning, as they were entangled in a 
defile, they beheld a small band of savages, as wild looking as 
the surrounding scenery, v/ho reconnoitred them warily from 
the rocks before they ventured to advance. Some of them 
were mounted on horses rudely caparisoned, with bridles or 
halters of buifalo hide, one end trailing after them on the 
ground. They proved to be a mixed party of Flatheads and 
Shoshonies, or Snakes ; and as these tribes will be frequently 
mentioned in the course of this work, we shall give a few in- 
troductory particulars concerning them. 

The Flatheads in question are not to be confounded with 
those of the name who dwell about the lower waters of the 
Columbia; neither do they flatten their heads as the others do. 
They inhabit the banks of a river on the west side of the 



ASTORIA. X97 

mountains, and are described as simple, honest, and hospita- 
ble. Like all people of similar character, v/hether civilized 
or savage, they are prone to be imposed upon ; and are espe- 
cially maltreated by the ruthless Blackfeet, who harass them 
in their villages, steal their horses by night, or openly carry 
them off in the face of day, without provoking pursuit or re- 
taliation. 

The Shoshonies are a branch of the once powerful and pros- 
perous tribe of the Snakes, who possessed a glorious hunting 
country about the upper forks of the Missouri, abounding in 
beaver and buffalo. Their hunting-ground was occasionally 
invaded by the Blackfeet, but the Snakes battled bravely for 
their domains, and a long and bloody feud existed, with varia- 
ble success. At length the Hudson's Bay Company, extending 
their trade into the interior, had dealings with the Blackfeet, 
who were nearest to them, and supplied them with firearms. 
The Snakes, who occasionally traded with the Spaniards, en- 
deavored, but in vain, to obtain similar weapons ; the Spanish 
traders wisely refused to arm them so formidably. The Black- 
feet had now a vast advantage, and soon dispossessed the poor 
Snakes of their favorite hunting-grounds, their land of plenty, 
and drove them from place to place, until they were fain to 
take refuge in the wildest and most desolate recesses of the 
Rocky Mountains. Even here they are subject to occasional 
visits from their implacable foes, as long as they have horses, 
or any other property to tempt the plunderer. Thus by de- 
grees the Snakes have become a scattered, broken-spirited, 
impoverished people, keeping about lonely rivers and moun- 
tain streams, and subsisting chiefly upon fish. Such of them 
as still possess horses, and occasionally figure as hunters, are 
called Shoshonies ; but there is another class, the most abject 
and forlorn, who are called Shuckers, or more commonly Dig- 
gers and Root Eaters. These are a shy, secret, solitary race, 
who keep in the most retired parts of the mountains, lurking 
like gnomes in caverns and clefts of the rocks, and subsisting 
Ir a great measure on the roots of the earth. Sometimes, in 
passing through a solitary mountain valley, the traveller 
comes perchance upon the bleeding carcass of a deer or buffalo 
that has just been slain. He looks round in vain for the 
hunter ; the whole landscape is lifeless and deserted ; a,t length 
he perceives a thread of smoke, curling up from among the crags 
and cliffs, and, scrambling to the place, finds some forlorn and 
skulking brood of Diggers, terrified at being discovered. 



198 ASTORIA. 

The Shoshonies, however, who, as has been observed, have 
still "horse to ride and weapon to wear," are somewhat bolder 
in their spirit, and more open and Avide in their wanderings. 
In the autumn, when salmon disappear from the rivers, and 
hunger begins to pinch, they ev'^en venture down into their 
ancient hunting-grounds, to make a foray among the buffaloes. 
In this perilous enterprise they are occasionally joined by the 
Flatheads, the persecutions of the Blackfeet having produced 
a close alliance and co-operation between these luckless and 
maltreated tribes. Still, notwithstanding their united force, 
^very step they take within the debatable ground is taken in 
fear and trembling, and with the utmost precaution ; and an 
Indian trader assures us that he has seen at least live hundred 
of them, armed and equipped for action, and keex^ing watch 
upon the hill tops, while about fifty were hunting in the 
prairie. Their excursions are brief and hurried; as soon as 
they have collected and jerked sufficient buffalo m^eat for 
winter provisions, they pack their horses, abandon the dan- 
gerous hunting grounds, and hasten back to the mountains, 
happy if they have not the terrible Blackfeet rattling after 
them. 

Such a confederate band of Shoshonies and Flatheads was 
the one met by our travellers. It was bound on a visit to the 
Arapahoes, a tribe inhabiting the banks of the Nebraska. 
They were armed to the best of their scanty means, and some 
of the Shoshonies had bucklers of buffalo hide, adorned with 
feathers and leathern fringes, and which have a charmed 
virtue in their eyes, from having been prepared, with mystic 
ceremonies, by their conjurors. 

In company with this wandering band our trp.vellers pro- 
ceeded all day. In the evening they encamped near to each 
other in a defile of the mountains, on the borders of a stream 
running north and falling into Big Horn Eiver. In the vicinity 
of the camp they found gooseberries, strawberries, and cur- 
rants in great abundance. The defile bore traces of having 
been a thoroughfare for countless herds of buffaloes, though 
not one Avas to be seen. The hunters succeeded in killing an 
elk and several black-tailed deer. 

They were now in the bosom of the second Big Horn ridge, 
with another lofty and snow-crowned mountain full in view to 
the west. Fifteen miles of western course brought them, on 
the following day, down into an intervening plain, well stocked 
with buffalo. Here the Snakes and Flatheads joined with ths 



ASTORIA. 199 

white hunters in a successful hunt, that soon filled the camp 
with provisions. 

On the morning of the 9th of September the travellers parted 
company with their Indian friends, and continued on their 
course to the west. A march of thirty miles brought them, 
in the evening, to the banks of a rapid and beautifully clear 
stream about a hundred yards wide. It is the north fork or 
branch of the Big Horn River, but bears its peculiar name c f 
the Wind Eiver, from being subject in the winter season to a 
continued blast wliich sweeps its banks and prevents the sncv*?- 
from lying on them. This blast is said to be caused by a nar- 
row gap or funnel in the mountains, through which the river 
forces its way between perpendicular precipices, resembling 
cut rocks. 

This river gives its name to a whole range of mountains, 
consisting of three parallel chains, eighty miles in length, and 
about twenty or twenty-five broad. One of its peaks is prob- 
ably fifteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, being one 
of the highest of the Rocky Sierra. These mountains give 
rise, not merely to the Wind or Big Horn River, but to several 
branches of the Yellowstone and the Missouri on the east, and 
of the Columbia and Colorado on the west, thus dividing the 
sources of these mighty streams. 

For five succeeding days Mr. Hunt and his party continued 
up the course of the Wmd River, to the distance of about 
eighty miles, crossing and recrossing it, according to its v/ind- 
ings and the nature of its banks; sometmies passing through 
valleys, at other times scrambling over rocks and hills. The 
country in general was destitute of trees, but they passed 
through groves of wormwood, eight and ten feet in height, 
which they used occasionally for fuel, and they met with largo 
quantities of wild flax. 

The mountains w^ere destitute of game ; they came in sight 
of two grizzly bears, but could not get near enough for a shot; 
provisions, therefore, began to be scanty. They saw largo 
flights of the kind of thrush commonly called the rol^in, and 
many smaller birds of migratory species ; but the hills in gcne^ 
ral appeared lonely and with few signs of animal life. On the 
evening of the 14th of September thoy encamped on the forks 
of the Wind or Big Horn River. The largest of these forks 
came from the range of Wind River Mountains. 

The hunters who served as guides to the party in this part of 
their route had assured llr. Hunt that, by following up Wind 



200 xiSToniA. 

River, and crossing a single mountain ridge, he would come 
upon the head vfaters of the Colunnbia. The scarcity of game, 
however, which already had been felt to a pincliing degree, and 
which thi'eatened them with famine among the sterile heights 
which lay before them, admonished them to change their 
course. It was determined, therefore, to make for a stream, 
which, they were informed, passed the neighboring mountains 
to the south of west, on the grassy banks of which it was prob- 
able they would meet with bulf alo. Accordingly, about three 
o'clock on the following day, meeting with a beaten Indian 
road which led in the proper direction, they struck into it, 
turning their backs upon Wind River. 

In the course of the day they came to a height that com- 
manded an almost boundless prospect. Here one of the guides 
paused, and, after considering the vast landscape attentively, 
pointed to three mountain peaks glistening with snow, which 
rose, he said, above a fork of Columbia River. They were 
hailed by the travellers with that joy with which a beacon on 
a sea-shore is hailed by mariners after a long and dangerous 
voyage. It is true there was many a weary league to be trav- 
ersed before they should reach these landmarks, for, allowing 
for their evident height and the extreme transparency of the 
atmosphere, they could not be much less than a hundred miles 
distant. Even after reaching them there would yet remain 
hundreds of miles of their journey to be accomplished. All 
these matters were forgotten in the joy at seeing the first land- 
marks of the Columbia, that river which formed the bourne of 
the expedition. These remarkable peaks are known to some 
traveller as the Tetons ; as they had been guiding points, for 
many days, to Mr. Hunt, he gave them the name of the Pilot 
Knobs. 

The travellers continued their course to the south of west for 
about forty miles, through a region so elevated that patches of 
snow lay on the highest summits, and on the northern declivi- 
ties. At length they came to the desired stream, the object of 
their search, the Vv^aters of which flowed to the west. It was, 
in fact, a branch of the Colorado, which falls into the gulf of 
Cahfornia, and had received from the hunters the name of 
Spanish River, from information given by the Indians that 
Spaniards resided upon its lower waters. 

Tlie aspect of this river and its vicinity was cheering to the 
way-worn and hungry travellers. Its banks were green, and 
there were grassy valleys running from it in various direc 



ASTORIA. 201 

tions, into the heart of the rugged mountains, with herds of 
buffalo quietly grazing. The hunters sallied forth with keen 
alacrity, and soon returned laden with provisions. 

In this part of the mountains Mr. Hunt met with three dif- 
ferent kinds of gooseberries. The common piu-ple, on a low 
and very thorny bush ; a yellow kind, of an excellent flavor, 
growing on a stock free from thorns; and a deep purple, of the 
size and taste of our winter grape, with a thorny stalk. There 
were also three kinds of currants, one very large and well 
tasted, of a purj^le color, and growing on a bush eight or nine 
feet high. Another of a yelloAv color, and of the size and taste 
of the large red currant, the bush four or five feet high; and 
the third a beautiful scarlet, resembling the strawberry in 
sweetness, though rather insipid and growing on a low bush. 

On the 17 th they continued down the course of the river, 
making fifteen miles to the southwest. The river abounded 
with geese and ducks, and there were signs of its being inhab- 
ited by beaver and otters ; indeed they were now approaching 
regions where these animals, the great objects of the fur trade, 
are said to abound. They encamped for the night opposite the 
end of a mountain in the west, which was probably the last 
chain of the Eocky Mountains. On the following morning 
they abandoned the main course of Spanish Eiver, and taking 
a northwest direction for eight miles, came upon one of its little 
tributaries, issuing out of the bosom of the mountains, and 
running through green meadows, yielding pasturage to herds 
of buffalo. As these were probably the last of that animal 
they would meet with, they encamped on the grassy banks of 
the river, determining to spend several days in hunting, so as 
to be able to jerk sufncient meat to supply them until they 
should reach the waters of the Columbia, where they trusted 
to find fish enough for their support. A little repose, too, was 
necessary for both men and horses, after their rugged and in- 
cessant marching; having in the course of the last seventeen 
days traversed two hundred and sixty miles of rough, and in 
many parts sterile mouiitain country. 



202 ASTOEIA, 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Five days were passed by Mr. Hunt and his companions in 
the fresh meadows v;atered by the bright httle mountain 
stream. The hunters made great havoc among the buffaloes, 
and brought in quantities of meat ; the voyageurs busied them- 
selves about the fires, roasting and stewing for present pur- 
poses, or drying provisions for the journey ; the pack-horses, 
eased of their burdens, rolled on the grass or grazed at large 
about the ample pastures ; those of the party who had no call 
upon their services indulged in the luxury of perfect relaxa- 
tion, and the camp presented a picture of rude feasting and 
revelry, of mingled bustle and repose, characteristic of a. halt 
In a fine hunting country. In the course of one of their excur- 
sions some of the men came in sight of a small party of In- 
dians, "Who instantly fled in great apparent consternation. They 
immediately returned to camp with the intelligence; upon 
which Mr. Hunt and four others flung themselves upon their 
horses and sallied forth to reconnoitre. After riding for about 
eight miles they came upon a wild mountain scene. A lonely 
green valley stretched before them, surrounded by rugged 
heights. A herd of buffalo were careering madly through it, 
with a troop of savage horsemen in full chase, plying them 
with their bows and arrows. The appearance of Mr. Hunt and 
his companions put an abrupt end to the hunt; the buffalo 
scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes 
and galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry 
them. Mr. Hunt gave chase; there was a sharp scamper, 
though of short continuance. Two young Indians, who were 
indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken. They v/ere ter- 
ribly frightened, and evidently gave themselves up for lost. 
By degrees their fears were allayed by kind treatment ; but 
they continued to regard the strangers with a mixture of awe 
and wonder; for it was the first time in their lives they had 
ever seen a white man. 

They belonged to a party of Snakes who had come across the 
mountains on their autumnal hunting excursion to provide 
buffalo meat for the winter. Being persuaded of the peacea- 
ble intentions of Mr. Hunt and his companions, they willingly 



ASTORIA. 203 

conducted them to tlieir camp. It was ydtclied in a narrow- 
valley on the margin of a stream. The tents were of dressed 
skins, some of them fantastically painted, with horses grazing 
£tbout them. The approach of the party caused a transient 
alarm in the camp, for these poor Indians were ever on the look- 
out for cruel foes. No sooner, however, did they recognize the 
garb and complexion of their visitors than their apprehensions 
were changed into joy ; for some of them had dealt with white 
men, and knew them to be friendly, and to abound with arti- 
cles of singular value. They welcomed them, therefore, to 
their tents, set food l^eiore them, and entertained them to the 
best of iheir power. 

They had been successful in their hunt, and their camp was 
full of jerked buffalo meat, all of the choicest kind, and ex- 
tremely fat. Mr. Hunt purchased enough of them, in addition 
to what had been killed and cured by his own hunters, to load 
all the horses excepting those reserved for the partners and the 
wife of Pierre Dorion. He found also a few beaver skins in 
their camp, for v/hich he paid iberally, as an inducement to 
them to hunt for more, informing them that some of his party 
intended to live among the mountains, and trade with the 
native hunters for their peltries. The poor Snakes soon com- 
prehended the adva.ntagcs thus held out to them, and promised 
to exert themselves to procure a quantity of beaver skins for 
future traffic. 

Being now well supplied with provisions, Mr. Hunt broke up 
his encampment on the 24th of September, and continued on 
to the west. A march of fifteen miles, over a mountain ridge, 
brought them to a stream about fifty feet in width, which Ho- 
back, one of their guides, who had trapped about the neigh- 
borhood when in the service of Mr. Henrj^, recognized for one 
of the head waters of the Columbia. The travellers hoilod it 
with dehght, as the first stream they had encountered tending 
toward their point of destination. They kept along it for two 
days, during which, from the contribution of many rills and 
brooks, it gradually swelled into a small river. As it mean- 
dered among rocks and precipices, they v/ero frequently 
obliged to ford it, and such was its rapidity that the men were 
often in danger of being swept away. Sometimes the banks 
advanced so close upon the river that they were obliged to 
scramble up and down their rugged promontories, or to sl^irt 
along their bases udiero there wrs r-'^nrco a foothold. Their 
horses had dangerous falls in some of these passes. Que of them 



204 ASTORIA. 

roiled, with his load, nearly two hundred feet down hill, into 
the river, but without receiving any injury. At length they 
emerged from these stupendous defiles, and continued for sev- 
eral miles along the bank of Hoback's Eiver, through one of 
the stern mountain valleys. Here it was joined by a river of 
greater magnitude and swifter current, and their united wa- 
ters swept oif through the valley in one impetuous stream, 
wiiich, from its rapidity and turbulence, had received the 
name of Mad Eiver. At the confluence of these stream.s the 
travellers encamped. An important point in their arduous jour- 
ney had been attained, a few miles from their camp rose the 
three vast snowy peaks called the Tetons, or the Pilot Knobs, 
the great landmarks of the Columbia, by which they had shaped 
their course through this mountain wilderness. By their feet 
flowed the rapid current of Mad Eiver, a- stream ample enough to 
admit of the navigation of canoes, and down which they might 
possibly be able to steer their course to the main body of the 
Columbia. The Canadian voyageurs rejoiced at the idea of 
once more launching themselves upon their favorite element : 
of exchanging their horses for canoes, and of gliding down the 
bosoms of rivers, instead of scrambling over the backs oi 
mountains. Others of the party, also, inexperienced in this 
kind of travelling, considered their toils and troubles as draw- 
ing to a close. They had conquered the chief difliculties of 
this great rocky barrier, and now flattered themselves with 
the hope of an easy downward course for the rest of their 
journey. Little did they dream of the hardships and perils by 
land and v/ater, which were yet to be encountered in the 
frightful wilderness that intervened between them and the 
shores of the Pacific ! 



CHAPTEE XXXI. 



On the banks of Mad Eiver Mr. Hunt held a consultation 
with the other partners as to their future movements. The 
wfld and impetuous current of the river rendered him doubt- 
ful whether it might not abound with impediments lower 
down, sufficient to render the navigation of it slow and peril- 
ous, if not impracticable. Tiie hunters who had acted as 
gTiides knew nothing of the character of the river below ; what 
rocks, and shoals, and rapids might obstruct it, or througlj 



ASTORIA, 205 

what mountains and deserts it might pass. Should they then 
abandon their horrcs, cast themselves loose in fragile barks 
upon this wild, doubtful, and unknown river; or should they 
continue their more toilsome and tedious, but perhaps more 
certain wayfaring by land? 

The vote, as might have been expected, was almost unani- 
mous for embarkation ; for when men are in difficulties every 
change seems to be for the better. The difficulty now was to 
find timber of sufficient size for the construction of canoes, the 
trees of these high mountain regions being chiefly a scrubbed 
growth of pines and cedars, aspens, hav/s, and service-berries, 
and a small kind of cotton-tree, with a leaf resembling that of 
the willow. There was a species of large fir, but so full of 
knots as to endanger the axe in hewing it. After searching 
for some time, a growth of timber, of sufficient size, was 
found lower down the river, v/hereupon the encampment wcs 
moved to the ^dcinity. 

The men were now set to work to fell trees, and the moun- 
tains echoed to the unwonted sound of thefr axes. While pre- 
parations were thus going on for a voyage down the river, Mr. 
Hunt, who still entertained doubts of its practicability, dis- 
patched an exploring party., consisting of John Reed, the clerk, 
John Day, the hunter, and Pierre Dorion, the interpreter, with 
orders to proceed several days' march along the stream, and 
notice its course and character. 

After their departure Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to an- 
other object of importance. He had now arrived at the head 
waters of the Cohunbia, which v/ere among the main points 
embraced by the enterprise of Mr. Astor. These upper streams 
were reputed to abound in beaver, and had as yet been unmo- 
lested by the white trapper. The numerous signs of beaver 
met with during the recent search for timber gave evidence 
that the neighbornood was a good "trapping ground." Here 
then it was proper to begin to cast loose those leashes of hardy 
trappers, that are detached from trading parties, in the veiy 
heart of the wildei'ness. The men detached in the present in- 
stance vv-ere Alexander Carson, Louis St. Michel, Pierre Detaye, 
and Pierre Delaunay. Trappers generally go in pairs, that 
they may assist, protect, and comfort each other in their lonely 
and T)erilous occupations. Thus Carson and St. Michel formed 
one couple, and Detaye and Delaima;/^ another. They were 
fitted out with traps, arms, ammunition, liorses, and every 
other requisite, and were to trap upon the upper part of Mad 



206 ASTOiirA. 

River, and upon the neighboring streams of the mountains. 
This would probably occupy them for some months; and, 
when they should have collected a sufficient quantity of pel- 
tries, they were to pack them upon their horses and make the 
best of their way to the mouth of Columbia River, or to any 
intermediate post which might be established by the company. 
They took leave of their comrades and started off on their 
several courses with stout hearts and cheerful countenances ; 
though these lonely cruisings into a wild and hostile wilder- 
ness seem to the uninitiated equivalent to being cast adrift in 
the ship's yawl in the midst of the ocean. 

Of the perils that attend the lonely trapper, the reader will 
have sufficient proof, when he comes, in the after j)art of this 
work, to learn the hard fortunes of these poor fellows in tho 
course of their wild peregrinations. 

The trappers had not long depa.rted when two Snake Indians 
wandered into the camp. When they perceived that the 
strangers were fabricating canoes, they shook their heads and 
gave them to understand that the river was not navigable. 
Their information, however, was scoffed at by some of the 
party, who were obstinately bent on embarkation, but was 
confirmed by the exploring party, who returned after several 
days' absence. They had kept along the river with great diffi- 
culty for two days, and found it a narrow, crooked, turbulent 
stream, confined in a rocky channel, with many rapids, and 
occasionally overhung with precipices. From the summit of 
one of these they had caught a bird's-eye view of its boisterous 
career, for a great distance, through the heart of the mountain, 
with impending rocks and cliffs. Satisfied from this view that 
it was useless to follow its course either by land or water, they 
had given up all further investigation. 

These concurring reports determined Mr. Hunt to abandon 
JMad River, and seek some more navigable stream. This de» 
termination was concurred in by all his associates excepting 
Mr. ]\Iiller, v>^ho ha,d become impatient of the fatigue of land 
travel, and was for iinmediate embarkation at all hazards. 
This gentleman had been in a gloomy and irritated state oi 
mind for some time past, being troubled with a bodily malady 
that rendered travelling on horseback extremely irksome to 
him, and being, moreover, discontented with having a smaller 
share in the expedition than his comrades. His unreasonable 
objections to a further march by land were overi-uled, and the 
party prepared to decamp. 



ASTORIA. 207 

Eobinson, Hoback, and Rezner, the three Hunters wno had 
hitherto served as guides among the mountains, nov/ stepped 
forward, and advised Mr. Hunt to make for the post estab- 
lished during the preceding year by Mr. Henry, of the Missouri 
Fur Comj)any. They had been with Mr. Henry, and as far as 
they could judge by the neighboring landmarks, his post could 
not be very far off. They presumed there could be but one 
intervening ridge of mountains, v/hich might be passed with- 
out any great difficulty. Henry's post, or fort, was on an 
upper branch of the Columbia, down which they made no 
doubt it would be easy to navigate in canoes. 

The two Snake Indians being qucciioned in the matter, showed 
a perfect knowledge of the situation of the post, and offered, 
with great alacrity, to guide them to the place. Their offer 
was accepted, greatly to the displeasure of Mr. MiEer, who 
seemed obstinately bent upon braving the perils of Mad River. 

The weather for a few days past had been stormy, with rain 
and sleet. The Rocky Mountains are subject to tempestuous 
winds from the west ; these, sometimes, come in flaws or cur- 
rents, makmg a path through the forests many yards in width, 
and whirling oK trunks and branches to a great distance. The 
present storm subsided on the third of October, leaving all the 
surrounding heights covered with snow ; for while rain had 
fallen in the vaJley, it had snowed on the hill tops. 

On the 4th they broke up their encampment and crossed the 
river, the wa^er coming up to the girths of their horses. After 
travelling four miles, they encamped at the foot of the moun- 
tain, the last, as they hoped, which they should have to traverse. 
Four days more took ihem across it, and over several plains, 
watered by beautiful little streams, tributaries of Mad River. 
Near one of their encampments there was a hot spring contin- 
ually emitting a cloud of vapor. These elevated plains, which 
give a peculiar character to the mountains, are frequented by 
largQ gangs of antelopes, fleet as the wind. 

On the evening of the 8th of October, after a cold wintry day, 
with gusts of westerly wind and flurries of snow, they arrived 
at the sought-for post of Mr. Henry. Here he had fixed him- 
self, after being compelled by the hostilities of the Blackfeet to 
abandon the upper waters of the Missouri. The post, however, 
was deserted, for Mr. Henry had left it, in the course of the 
preceding spring, and, as it afterward appeared, had fallen in 
with Mr. Lisa, at the Arickara village on the Missouri, some 
time after the separation of Mr. Hunt and his party. 



208 ASTORIA. 

The weary travellers gladly took possession of the deserted 
log huts which had formed the post, and which stood on the 
bank of a stream upward oH a hundred yards wide, on v/liich 
they intended to embark. There being plenty of suitable tim- 
ber in the neighborhood, Mr. Hunt immediately proceeded to 
construct canoes. As he would have to leave his liorses and 
their accoutrements here, he determined to make tliis a trad- 
ing post, v/here the trappers and hunters, to be distributed 
about the country, might repair ; and where the traders might 
touch on their way through the mountains to and from the 
establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He niformed 
the two Snake Indians of this determination, and engaged 
them to remain in that neighborhood and take care of the 
horses until the white men should return, promising them 
ample rewards for their fidelity. It may seem a, desiderate 
chance to trust to the faith and honestj^ of two such vaga- 
bonds; but, as the horses v^^ould have, at all events, to be 
abandoned, and would otherwise become the property of the 
first vagrant horde that should encounter them, it was one 
chance in favor of their being regained. 

At this place another detachment of hunters prepared to 
separate from the party for the purpose of trapping beaver. 
Three of these had already been in this neighborhood, being 
the veteran Robinson and his compauions, Hoback and Eez- 
ner, who had accompanied Mr. Henry across the mountains, 
and who had been picked up by Mr. Hunt on the Missouri, on 
■':heir way home to Kentiicky. According to agreement they 
were fitted out with liorses, traps, ammunition, and every- 
thing requisite for their undertaking, amd were to bring in all 
the peltries they should collect, either to this trading post or to 
the establishment at the mouth of Columbia Eiver. Another 
hunter, of the name of Cass, Avas associated with them in 
their enterprise. It is in this way that small knots of trappers 
and hunters are distributed about the wilderness by the fur 
companies, and, like cranes and bitterns, haunt its solitary 
streams. Robinson, the Kentuckian, the veteran of the 
"bloody ground," who, as has already been noted, had been 
scalped by the Indians in his younger days, was the leader of 
this little band. "When they were about to depart, Mr. Miller 
called the partners together, and threw up his shaie in the 
company, declaring his intention of joining the party of 
trappers. 

This resolution struck every one with a.-^tonishment. Mr. 



ASTOniA. 209 

Miller being a man of education and of cultivated habits, and 
little fitted for the rude life of a hunter. Besides, the pre- 
carious and slender profits arising from such a life were 
beneath the prospects of one who held a share in the general 
enterprise. Mr. Plunt was especially concerned and mortified 
at his determination, as it was through his advice and influence 
he had entered into the concern. He endeavored, therefore, 
to dissuade him from this sudden resolution ; representing its 
rashness, and the hardships and perils to which it would ex- 
pose him. He earnestly advised him, however he might feel 
dissatisfied with the enterprise, still to continue on in com- 
pany until they should reach the mouth of Coluimoia River. 
There they would meet the expedition that v\Tis to come by 
sea ; when, should he still feel disposed to relinquish the under- 
taking, Mr. Hunt pledged himself to furnish him a passage 
home in one of the vessels belonging to the company. 

To all this Miller replied abruptly, that it was useless to 
argue with him, as his mind was made up. They might fur- 
nish him, or not, as they pleased, with the necessary supplies, 
but he was determined to part company here, and set off v/ith 
the trappers. So saying, he Hang out of their presence with- 
out vouchsafing any further conversation. 

Much as this wayward conduct gave them anxiety, the 
partners saw it was in vain to remonstrate. Every attention 
was paid to fit him out for his headstrong undertaking. He 
was provided with four horses and all the articles he required. 
The two Snakes undertook to conduct him and his com])anions 
to an encampment of their tribe, lower down among the moun- 
tains, from whom they would receive information as to the 
best trapping grounds. After thus guiding them, the Snakes 
were to return to Fort Henry, as the new trading post wao 
called, and take charge of the horses which the party would 
leave there, of which, after all the hunters were supplied, 
there remained seventy - seven. These matters being all 
arranged, Mr. Miller set out with his companions, under 
guidance of the two Snakes, on the 10th of October ; and much 
did it grieve the friends of that gentleman to see hun thus 
wantonly casting himself loose upon savage life. How he and 
biis comrades fared in the wilderness, and how the Snakes 
acquitted themselves of their trust respecting the horses, will 
ho^'eafter appear in the courro of these rambling anecdotes. 



210 ASTORIA. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

While the canoes were in preparation, the hunters ranged 
about the neighborhood, but with Httie success. Tracks of. 
buffaloes were to be seen in all directions, but none of a fresh 
date. There were some elk, but extremely wild; two only 
were killed. Antelopes were likewise seen, but too shy and 
fleet to be approached. A few beavers were taken every night, 
and salmon trout of a small size, so that the camp had princi- 
pally to subsist upon dried buffalo meat. 

On the 14th, a poor, half -naked Snake Indian, one of that 
forlorn caste called the Shuckers, or Diggers, made liis appear- 
ance at the camp. He came from some lurking-place among 
the rocks and cliffs, and presented a picture of that famishing 
wretchedness to which these lonely fugitives among the moun- 
tains are sometimes reduced. Having received wherewithal 
to allay his hunger, he disappeared, but in the course of a day 
or two returned to the camp, bringing with him his son, a 
miserable boy, stiU more naked and forlorn than him.self. 
Food was given to both ; they skulked about the camp like 
hungry hounds, seeking what they might devour, and having 
gathered up the feet and entrails of some beavers that were 
lying about, slunk off with them to their den among tlie rocks. 

By the 18th of October fifteen canoes were completed, and 
on the following day the party embarked with their effects, 
leaving their horses grazing about the banks, and trusting to 
the honesty of the two Snakes, and some special turn of good 
luck for their future recovery. 

The current bore them along at a rapid rate ; the light spirits 
of the Canadian voyageurs, which had occasionally flagged 
upon land, rose to their accustomed buoyancy on finding 
themselves again upon the water. They v/ielded their paddles 
with their wonted dexterity, and for the first time made the 
mountains echo with their favorite boat songs. 

In the course of the day the little squadron arrived at the 
confluence of Henry and Mad Rivers, which thus united, 
swelled into a beautiful stream of a light pea-green color, 
navigable for boats of any size, and vfhich from the place oi 
junction, took the name of Snake River, a stream doomed to 



ASTORIA. 211 

be the scene of much disaster to the travellers. The banks were 
here and there fringed with willow thickets and small cotton- 
wood trees. The weather was cold, and it snowed all day, and 
great flocks of ducks and geese, sporting in the w^ater or 
streaming through the air, gave token that winter was at 
hand; jet the hearts of the travellers were light, and, as they 
glided down the little river, they flattered themselves with the 
hope of soon reaching the Columbia. After making thirty 
miles in a southerly direction, they encamped for the night in 
a neighborhood which required some little vigilance, as there 
were recent traces of grizzly bears among the thickets. 

On the following day the river increased in width and 
beauty, flowing parallel to a range of mountains on the left, 
which at times were finely reflected in its light green waters. 
The three snowy summits of the Pilot Knobs or Tetons were 
still seen towering in the distance. After pursuing a. swift but 
placid course for twenty miles, the current began to foam and 
brawl, and assume the wild and broken character common to 
the streams west of the Eocky Mountains. In fact the rivers 
which flow from those mountains to the Pacific are essentially 
different from those w^hich traverse the great prairies on their 
eastern declivities. The latter, though sometimes boisterous, 
are generally free from obstructions, and easily navigated ; but 
the rivers to the west of the mountains descend more steeply 
and impetuously, and are continue lly liable to cascades and 
rapids. The lacter abounded in the part of the river which the 
traveUers were now descending. Two of the canoes filled 
among the breakers ; the crews were saved, but much of the 
lading was lost or damaged, and one of the canoes drifted 
down the stream and was broken among the rocks. 

On the following day, October 21st, they made but a short 
distance when they came to a dangerous strait, where the river 
was compressed for nearly half a mile between perpendicular 
rocks, reducing it to the width of twenty yards, and increasing 
its violence. Here they were obliged to pass the canoes down 
cautiously by a line from the impending banks. This con- 
sumed a great part of a day; and after they had re-embarked 
they were soon again impeded by rapids, when they liad to 
unload their canoes and carry them and their cargoes for some 
distance by land. It is at these places, called "portages," 
that the Canadian voyageur exhibits his most valuable quali- 
ties, carrying heavy burdens, and toiling to and fro, on land 
and in the water, over rocks and precipices, among brakes and 



212 ASTORIA. 

brambles, not only without a murmur, but with the greatest 
cheerfulness and alacrity, joking and laughing and singing 
scraps of old French ditties. 

The spirits of the party, however, which had been elated on 
first varying their journeying from land to water, had now 
lost some of their buoyancy. Everything ahead was wrapped 
in uncertainty. They knew nothing of the river on which 
they were floating. It had never been navigated by a vviiite 
man, nor could they meet with an Indian to give them any in- 
formation concerning it. It kept on its course through a vast 
wilderness of silent and apparently uninhabited mountains, 
without a savage wigwam upon its banks, or bark upon its 
waters. The difficulties and perils they had olready passed 
made them apprehend others before them that might effectu- 
ally bar their progress. As they glided onward, however, 
they regained heart and hope. The current continued to be 
strong ; but it was steady, and though they met with frequent 
rapids, none of them were bad. Mountains were constantly to 
be seen in different directions, but sometimes the swift river 
glided through prairies, and was, bordered by small cotton- 
wood trees and willows. These prairies at certain seasons are 
ranged by migratory herds of the wide- wandering buffalo, the 
tracks of which, though not of recent date, were frequently to 
be seen. Here, too, were to be found the prickly pear, or In- 
dian fig, a plant which loves a more southern climate. On the 
land were large flights of magpies and American robins ; whole 
fleets of ducks and geese navigated the river, or flew off in 
long streaming files at the approach of the canoes ; while the 
frequent establishments of the painstaking and quiet-loving 
beaver showed that the solitude of these v/aters was rarely dis- 
turbed, even by the all-pervading savage. 

They had now come near two hundred and eighty miles 
since leaving Fort Henry, yet without seeing a human being 
or a human habitation ; a wild and desert solitude extended 
on either side of the river, apparently almost destitute of ani- 
mal life. At length, on the 24th of October, they were glad- 
dened by the sight of some savage tents, and hastened to land 
and visit them, for they were anxious to procure information 
to guide them on their route. On their approach, however, 
the savages fled in consternation. They proved to be a wan- 
dering band of Shoshonies. In their tents were great quan- 
tities of sniall fish about two inches long, together witli roots 
and seedy, or grain, which thoy were drying for winter pro- 



ASTORIA. 213 

visiioiisr. They appeared to be destitute of tools of any kind, 
yet mei-e were bows and arrows very well made; the former 
were formed of pine, cedar, or bone, strengthened by sinews, 
and the latter of the wood of rose-bushes, and other crooked 
plants, but carefully straightened, and tipped with stone of a 
bottie-green color. 

There were also vessels of willow and grass, so closely 
wrought as to hold water, and a seine neatly made with 
meshes, in the ordinary manner, of the fibres of wild flax or 
nettle. The humble effects of the poor savages remained un- 
molested by their visitors, and a few small articles, with 
a knife or two, were left in the camp, and were no doubt re- 
garded as invaluable prizes. 

Shortly after leaving this deserted camp, and re embarking 
in the canoes, the travehers met with three of the Snakes on a 
triangular raft made of flags or reecls; such was their rude 
mode of navigating ttie river. They weie entirely naked ex- 
cepting small mantles of hare skins over their shoulders. The 
canoes approached near enough to gain a full view of them, 
but they were not to be brought to a parley. 

Ml further progress for the day was barred by a fall in the 
river of about thirty feet perpendicular ; at the head of which 
the party encamped for the night. 

The next day was one of excessive toil and but little prog- 
ress, the river winding through a wild rocky country, and 
being interrupted by frequent rapids, among which the canoes 
were in great peril. On the succeeding day they again visited 
a camp of wandering Snakes, but the inhabitants fled with 
terror at the sight of a fleet of canoes, filled with white men, 
coming down their solitary river. 

As Mr. Hunt was extremely anxious to gain information 
concerning his route, he endeavored by all kinds of friendly 
signs to entice back the fugitives. At length one, who was on 
horseback, ventured back with fear and trembling. He was 
better clad and in better condition than most of his vagrant 
tribe that Mr. Hunt had yet seen. Tiie chief object of his 
return appeared to be to intercede for a quantity of dried 
meat and salmon trout, which he had left behind ; on which, 
probably, he depended for his winter's subsistence. The poor 
wretch approached with hesitation, the alternate dread of 
famine and of white men operating upon his mind. He made 
the most abject signs imyjloring Mr. Hunt not to carry off his 
food. The latter tried in every way to reassure him, and 



214 ASTORIA. 

offered him knives in exchange for his provisions; great as 
was the temptation, the poor Snake coiikl only prevail npon 
himself to spare a part, keeping a feverish v/atch over the rest, 
lest it should be taken away. It was in vain Mr. Hunt made 
inquiries of him concerning his route, and the course of the 
river. The Indian was too much frightened and bewildered to 
comprehend him or to reply; he did nothing but alternately 
commend himself to the protection of the Good Spirit, ai:d 
supplicate Mr. Hunt not to take away his fish a,nd buffalo 
meat; and in this state they left him, trembling about his 
treasures. 

In the course of that and the next day they made nearly 
eight miles, the river inclining to the south of west, and being 
clear and beautiful, nearly half a mile in width with many 
populous communities of the beaver along its banks. The 281 h 
of October, however, was a day of disaster. The river again 
became rough and impetuous, and was chafed and broken by 
numerous rapids. These grew more and more dangerous, an 1 
the utmost skill was required to steer among them. Mr. 
Crooks was seated in the second canoe of the squadron, and 
had an old experienced Canadian for steei-sman, named 
Antoine Clappine, one of the most valuable of the voyageurs. 
The leading canoe had glided safely among the turbulent and 
roaring surges, but in following it ]\Ir. Crooks pei'ceived that 
his canoe vvas bearing toward a rock. He called out to the 
steersman, but his warning voice was either unheard or un- 
heeded. In the next moment they struck upon the rock. The 
canoe was split and overturned. There were five persons on 
board. Mr. Crooks and one of his companions were thrown 
amid roaring breakers and a whirling current, but succeeded, 
by strong swimming, to reach the shore. Clappine and two 
others clung to the shattered bark, and drifted with it to a 
rock. The wreck struck the rock with one end, and swinging 
roJind, flung poor Clappine off into the raging stream, which 
swept him away, and he perished. His comrades succeeded 
in getting upon the rock, from whence they were afterward 
taken off. 

This disastrous event brought the whole squadron to a halt, 
and struck a chill into every bosom. Indeed, they had arrived 
at a terrific strait, that forbade all further progress in the 
canoes, and dismayed the most experienced voyageur. The 
whole body of the i-iver was compressed into a space of 
less than thirty feet in width, between tv/o ledges of rocks^ 



ASTORIA. 215 

upward of two hundred feet high, and formed a whirling and 
tumultuous vortex, so frightfully agitated as to receive the 
name of " The Caldron Linn." Beyond this fearful abyss the 
river kept raging and roaring on, until lost to sight among 
impending precij)ices. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Mr. Hunt and his companions encamped upon the borders 
of the Caldron Linn, and held gloomy counsel as to their future 
course. The recent wreck had dismayed even the voyageurs, 
and the fate of their popular comrade, Clappine, one of the 
most adroit and experienced of their fraternitj^, had struck 
sorrow to their hearts, for, with all their levity, these thought- 
less beings have great kindness toward each other. 

The whole distance they had navigated since leaving Henry^s 
Fort was computed to be about three hundred and forty miles ; 
strong apprehensions were now entertained that the tremen- 
dous impediments before them would obhge them to abandon 
their canoes. It was determined to send exploring parties on 
each side of the river to ascertain whether it was possible to 
navigate it further. Accordingly, on the following morning 
three men were dispatched along the south bank, while Mr. 
Hunt and three others proceeded along the north. The two 
parties returned after a weary scramble among swamps, rocks, 
and precipices, and with very disheartening accounts. For 
nearly forty miles that they had explored, the river foamed 
and roared along through a deep and narrow channel, from 
twenty to thirty yards wide, which it had worn, in the course 
of ages, through the heart of a barren, rocky country. The 
precipices on each side were often tv/o and three hundred feet 
high, sometimes perpendicular, and sometimes overhanging, 
so that it was impossible, excepting in one or two places, to get 
down to the margin of the stream. This dreary strait was 
rendered the more dangerous by frequent rapids, and occasion- 
ally perpendicular falls from ten to forty feet in height ; so 
that it seem.ed almost hopeless to attempt to pass the canoes 
down it. The party, however, who had explored the south 
side of the river, had found a place, about six miles from the 
camp, where they thought it possible the canoes might b© 



21Q ASTORIA. 

carried down the bank and launched upon the stream, and 
from whence they might make their way with the aid of occa- 
sional portages. Four of the best canoes were accordingly 
selected for the experiment, and were transported to the place 
on the shoulders of sixteen of the men. At the same time 
Mr, Eeed, the clerk, and three men were detached to explore 
the river still further down than the previous scouting parties 
had been, and at the same time to look out for Indians, from 
whom provisions might be obtained, and a suj)ply of horses, 
should it be found necessary to i^roceed by land. 

The party who had been sei i with the canoes returned on 
the following day, weary and dejected. One of the canoes 
had been swept away with all the weapons and effects of four 
of the voyageiirs, in attempting to pass it down a rapid by 
means of a line. The other three had stuck fast among the 
rocks, so that it was impossible to move them ; the men re- 
turned, therefore, in despair, and declared the river unnaviga- 
ble. 

The situation of the unfortunate travellers was now gloomy 
in the extreme. They were in the heart of an unknown wilder- 
ness, untraversed as yet by a white man. They were at a loss 
what route to take, and how far they were from the ultimate 
place of their destination, nor could they meet, in these unin- 
habited wilds, with any human being to give them informa- 
tion. The repeated accidents to their canoes had reduced their 
stock of provisions to five days' allowance, and there was now 
every appearance of soon having famine added to their other 
sufferings. 

This last circumstance rendered it more perilous to keep 
together than to separate. Accordingly, after a little anxious 
but bewildered counsel, it was determined that several small 
detachments should start off in different directions, headed by 
the several partners. Should any of them succeed in falling in 
with friendly Indians, within a reasonable distance, and ob- 
taining a supply of provisions and horses, they were to return 
to the aid of the main body ; otherwise, they were to shift for 
themselves, and shape their course according to circumstances, 
keeping the mouth of the Columbia River as the ultimate point 
of their wayfaring. Accordingly, three several parties set off 
from the camp at Caldron Linn, in opposite directions. Mr. 
M'Lellan, with three men, kept down along the bank of the 
river. Mr. Crooks, with five others, turned their steps up it, 
retracing by land the weary course they had made by water, 



ASTORIA, 217 

intending, should they not find rehef nearer at hand, to keep 
on until they should reach Henry's Fort, where they hoped to 
find the horses they had left there, and to return with them to 
the main body. 

The tliird party, composed of five men, was headed by Mr. 
M'Kenzie, who struck to the northward, across the desert 
plains, in hopes o£ coming upon the main stream of the Co- 
lumbia. 

Having seen these three adventurous bands de23art upon 
their forlorn expeditions, Mr. Hunt turned his thoughts to pro- 
vide for the subsistence of the mam body, left to his charge, 
and to prepare for their future march. There remained with 
him thirty-one men, besides the squaw and two children of 
Pierre Dorion. There was no game to be met with in the 
neighborhood ; but beavers were occasionally trapped about the 
river banks, which afforded a scanty supply of food; in the 
mean time they comforted themselves that some one or other 
of the foraging detachments would be successful, and return 
with relief. 

Mr. Hunt now set to work with all diligence, to prepare 
caches in which to deposit the baggage and merchandise, of 
which it would be necessary to disburden themselves, prepara- 
tory to their weary march by land ; and here we shall give a 
brief description of those contrivances, so noted in the wil- 
derness. 

A cache is a term, common among traders and hunters, to 
designate a hiding-place for provisions and effects. It is de- 
rived from the French word caeher, to conceal, and originated 
among the early colonists of Canada and Louisiana ; but the 
secret depository which it designates was in use among the 
aboriginals long before the intrusion of the white men. It is, 
in fact, the only mode that migratory hordes have of preserv- 
ing their valuables from robbery, during their long absences 
from their villages or accustomed haunts, or hunting expedi- 
tions, or during the vicissitudes of war. The utmost skill and 
caution are required to render these places of concealment in- 
visible to the lynx eye of an Indian. The first care is to seek 
out a proper situation, v/hich is generally some dry low bank 
of clay, on the margin of a water-course. As soon as the pre- 
cise spot is pitched upon, blankets, saddle-cloths, and other 
coverings are spread over the surrounding grass and bushes, 
to prevent foot tracks, or any other derangement ; and as few 
hands as possible are employed. A circle of about two feet in 



2]8 



ASTORIA. 



diameter is then nicely cut in the sod, Y/bich is carefully re> 
moved, with the loose soil immediately beneath it, and laid 
aside in a place where it will he safe from anything that may 
change its appearance. The uncovered area is then digged 
perpendicularly to the depth of about three feet, and is then 
gradually widened so as to form a conical chamber, six or seven 
feet deep. The whole of the earth displaced by thi ■ process, 
being of a different color from that on the surface, is handed 
up in a vessel, and heaped into a skin or cloth, in which it is 
conveyed to the stream and thrown into the midst of the cur 
rent that it may be entirely carried off. Should the cache not 
be formed in the vicinity of a stream, the earth thus thrown 
up is carried to a distance, and scattered in such manner as not 
to leave the minutest trace. The cave, being formed, is well 
lined with dry grass, bo.rk, sticks, and poles, and occasionally 
a dried hide. The property intended to be hidden is then laid 
in, after having been well aired ; a hide is spread over it, and 
dried grass, brush, and stones thrown in, and trampled down 
until the pit is filled to the neck. The loose soil which had 
been put aside is then brought, and rammed down firmly, to 
prevent its caving in, and is frequently sprinkled with water, 
to destroy the scent, lest the wolves and bears should be at- 
tracted to the i3lace, and root up the concealed treasure. When 
the neck of the cache is nearly level with the surrounding sur- 
face, the sod is again fitted in with the utmost exactness, and 
any bushes, stocks, or stones, that may have originally been 
about the spot, are restored to their former places. The blank- 
ets and other coverings are then removed from the surrounding 
herbage ; all tracks are obliterated ; the grass is gently raised 
by the hand to its natural position, and the minutest chip or 
straw is scrupulously gleaned up a,nd thrown into the stream. 
After all is done, the place is abandoned for the night, and, it 
all be right next morning, is not visited again, until there be a 
necessity for reopening the cache. Four men sire sufficient, in 
tliis way, to conceal the amount of three tons' weight of mer= 
chandise in the course of two days. Nine caches were required 
to contain the goods and baggage which Mr. Hunt found it 
necessary to leave at this place. 

Three days had been thus employed since the departure of 
the severed detachments, when that of Mr. Crooks unexpect- 
edly made its appearance. A momentary joy was diltused 
through the camp, for they supposed succor to be at lian'!. Tt 
was soon dispelled. Mr. Crooks and his companions had be- 



ASTORIA. 



2J9 



come completely disheartened by this retrograde march through 
a bleak and barren country ; and had found, computing from 
their progress and the accumulating difficulties besotting every 
step, that it would be impossible to reach Henry's Fort and re- 
turn to the main body in the course of the winter. They had 
determined, therefore, to rejoin their comrades, and share their 
Eot. 

One avenue of hope was thus closed upon the anxious so= 
sojourners at the Caldron Linn ; their main expectation of re- 
lief was now from the two parties under Eeed and M'Leilan 
vv^hich had proceeded down the river, for, as to Mr. M'Kenzie's 
detachment, which had struck across the plains, they thou<4'\t 
it would have sufficient dilficulty in struggling forward throup-h 
the trackless wilderness. For five days they continued to sup- 
port themselves by trapping and f shing. Some fish of tolera- 
ble size were speared at night by the light of cedar torches • 
others, that were very small, were caught in nets with fme 
meshes. The product of their fishing, however, was very 
scanty. Their trapping was also precarious, and the tails and 
bellies of the beavers were dried and put by for the journey. 

At length two of the companions of Mr. Reed returned, and 
were hailed with the most anxious eagerness. Their report 
served but to increase the general despondency. They had 
followed Mr. Reed for some distance below the point to v/hich 
Mr. Hunt had explored, but had met v^th no Indians, from 
whom to obtain information and relief. The river still pre- 
sented the same furious aspect, brawling and boiling along a 
narrow and rugged channel, between rocks that rose like 
walls. 

A lingering hope, which had been indulged by some of the 
party, of proceeding by water, was now finally given up : the 
long and terrific strait of the river set all further progress at 
defiance, and in their disgust at the place, and their vexation 
at the disasters sustained there, they gave it the indignant 
though not very decorous appellation of the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole. 



220 ASTOiUA. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The resolution of Mr. Hunt and his comioanions was now 
taken to set out immediately on foot. As to the other detach 
ments that had in a manner gone forth to seek their fortunes, 
there was little chance of their return ; they would probably 
make their own way through the wilderness. At any rate, to 
linger in the vague hope of relief from them would be to run 
the risk of perishing v^rith hunger. Besides, the winter was 
rapidly advancing, and they had a long journey to m^ake 
through an unknown country, where all kinds of perils might 
await them. Thej were yet, in fact, a thousand miles from 
Astoria, but the distance was unknown to them at the time; 
everything before and around them was vague and conjectural, 
and v/ore an aspect calculated to inspire despondency. 

In abandoning the river they would have to launch foith 
upon vast trackless plains, destitute of all means of sub- 
sistence, where they might perish of hunger and thirst. A 
dreary desert of saitd and gravel extends from Snake Eiver 
almost to the Columbia. Here and there is a thin and scanty 
herbage, insufficient for the pasture of horse or buffalo. In- 
deed these treeless wastes between the Rocky Mountains and 
the Pacific are even more desolate and barren than the naked, 
upper prairies on the Atlantic side ; they present vast desert 
tracts that must ever defy cultivation, and interpose dreary 
and thirsty wilds between^ ths habitations of man, in travers- 
ing which the wanderer will often be in danger of peribhing. 

Seeing the hopeless character of these wastes, Mr. Hunt and 
his companions determined to keep along the course of the 
river, where they would always have water at hand, and 
would be able occasionally to procure fish and beaver, and 
might perchance meet with Indians, from whom they could 
obtain provisions. 

They now made their final preparations for the march. All 
their remaining stock of provisions consisted of forty pounds 
of Indian corn, t -vvonty pounds of grease, about five pounds of 
portable soup, and a sufficient quantity of dried meat to allow 
each man a pittance of five pounds and a quarter, to be re- 
served for emergencies. This being properly distributed, they 



ASTORIA. 221 

deposited all their goods and superfluous articles in the caches, 
taking nothing with them but what was indispensable to the 
journey. With all their management, each man had to carry 
twenty pounds' weight beside his own articles and equipments. 

That they might have the better chance of procuring sub- 
sistence in the scanty regions they were to traverse, they 
divided their party into two bands, ]\Ir, Hunt, with eighteen 
men, besides Pierre Dorion and his family, was to proceed 
down the north side of tne river, while Mr. Crooks, with 
eighteen men, kept along the south side. 

On the morning of the 9th of October, the two parties sepa- 
rated and set forth on their several courses. Mr. Hunt and his 
companions followed along the right bank of the river, which 
made its way far below them, brawling at the foot of perpen- 
dicular precii^ices of solid rock, two and three hundred feet 
high. For twenty-eight miles that they travelled this day, 
they found it impossible to get down to the margin of the 
stream. At the end of this distance they encamped for the 
night at a place which admitted a scrambling descent. It 
was with the greatest difficulty, however, they succeeded in 
getting up a kettle of water from the river for the use of the 
camp. As some rain had fallen in the afternoon, they passed 
the night under the shelter of the rocks. 

The next day they continued thirty-two miles to the north- 
west, keeping along the river, which still ran in its deep cut 
channel. Here and there a sandy beach or a narrow strip of 
soil fringed with dwarf willows would extend for a little dis- 
tance along the foot of the cliffs, and sometimes a reach of still 
water would intervene like a smooth mirror between the foam- 
ing rapids. 

As through the preceding day, they journeyed on without 
finding, except in one instance, any place where they could 
get down to the river's edge, and they were fain to allay the 
thirst caused by hard travelling, with the water collected in 
the hollow of the rocks. 

In the course of their ma.rch on the following morning they 
fell into a beaten horse path leading along the river, which 
showed that they were in the neighborhood of some Indian 
viUage or encami^ment. They had not proceeded far along it, 
when tliey met with two Shoshonies or Snakes. They ap- 
proached with some appearance of uneasiness, and accosting 
Mr. Hunt, held up a knife, which by signs they let him know 
they had received from Gomc of the v>^liite men of the advance 



222 ASTORIA, 

parties. It was with some difficulty that Mr. Hunt prevailed 
upon one of the savages to conduct him to the lodges of his 
people. Striking into a trail or path which led up from the 
river, he guided them for some distance in the prairie, until 
they came in sight of a numher of lodges made of straw, and 
shaped like haystacks. Their approach, as on former occa- 
sions, caused the wildest affright among the inliabitants. The 
women hid such of their children as were too largo to be car- 
ried, and too small to take C5,re of themselves, under straw, 
and, clasping their infants to their breasts, fled across the prai- 
rie. The men awaited the approach of these strangers, but 
evidently in great alarm. 

Mr. Hunt entered the lodges, and, as he was looking about, 
observed v»^here the children were concealed, their black eyes 
glistening like those of snakes from beneath the straw. He 
lifted up the covering to look at them ; the poor little beings 
were horribly f lightened, and their fathers stood trembling as 
if a beast of prey v/ere about to pounce upon the brood. 

The friendly manner of Mr. Hunt soon dispelled these appre- 
hensions; he succeeded in purchasing some excellent dried 
salmon, and a dog, an animal much esteemed as food by the 
natives; and when he returned to the river one of the Indians 
accompanied him. He now came to w^here lodges were fre- 
quent along the banks, and, after a day's journey of twenty- 
six miles to the northv/est, encamped in a populous neighbor- 
hood. Forty or fifty of the natives soon visited the camp, 
conducting themselves in a very amicable manner. They were 
w^el] clad, and all had buffalo robes, which they procured from 
some of the hunting tribes in exchange for sahnon. Their 
habitations were very comfortable ; each had its pile of worm- 
wood at the door for fuel, and within was abundance of salmon, 
Bome fresh, but the greater part cured. When the white men 
visited the lodges, however, the women and children hid them- 
selves through fea,r. Among the supplies obtained here were 
two dogs, on which our travellers breakfasted, and found them 
to be very excellent, well flavored, and hearty food. 

In tlie course of the three following days they made about 
sixty-three miles, generally in a northwest direction. They m.et 
with many of the natives in their straw-built cabins v\^ho re 
ceived them without alarm. About their dvrellings were im- 
mense quantities of the lieads nnd skins of salmon, tlie best 
part of which had boon cured and iiidden in the ground. Tl:c 
women were badly clad, tlie children worse ; their garmcn's 



ASTORIA. 223 

were buffalo robes, or the skiiis of foxes, welves, hares, and 
badgers, and sometimes the skins of ducks, sewed together 
with the plumage on. Most of the skms must have been pro- 
cured by traffic w^ith other tribes, or in distant hunting excur- 
sions, for the naked prairies in the neighborhood afforded few 
animals, excepting horses, wliich were abundant. There were 
signs of buffaloes having been there, but a long time before. 

On the 15th of November they made twenty-eight miles along 
the river, which was entirely free from rapids. The shores 
were lined with dead salmon, which tainted the whole atmos- 
phere. The natives whom they met spoke of Mr. Eeed's party 
having passed through that neighborhood. In the course of 
the day Mr. Hunt saw a few horses, but the owners of them 
took care to hurry them out of the way. All the jorovisions 
they were able to procure were two dogs and a salmon. On 
the following day they were still worse off, having to subsist 
on parched corn and the remains of their dried meat. The 
river this day had resumed its turbulent character, forcing its 
way through a narrow channel between steep rocks, and down 
violent rapids. They made twenty miles over a rugged road, 
gradually approaching a mountain in the northwest, covered 
with snow, which had been in sig2it for three days past. 

On the 17th they met with several Indians, one of whom had 
a horse. Mr. Hunt was extremely desirous of obtaining it as a 
pack-horse; for the men, worn down by fatigue and hunger, 
found the loads of twenty pounds' weight which they had to 
carry, daily growing heavier and more galling. The Indians, 
however, along this river, were never willing to part with their 
horses, having none to spare. The owner of the steed in ques- 
tion seemed proof agamst all temptation ; article after article 
of great value in Indian eyes was offered and refused. The 
charms of an old tin-kettle, however, were irresistible, and a 
bargain was concluded. 

A gi'eat part of the following morning was consumed in 
lightening the packages of the men and arranging the load for 
the horse. At this encampment there was no wood for fuel, 
even the wormwood on which they had frequently depended 
having disappeared. For the two last days they had made 
thirty miles to the northwest. 

On the 19th of November Mr. Hunt was lucky enough to 
purchase another horse for his own use; giving in exchange a 
tomahawk, a knife, a fire steel, and some beads and gartering. 
In an evil hour, however, he took the advice of the Indians to 



224 ASTORIA. 

abandon the river, and follow a road or trail leading into the 
prairies. He soon had cause to repent the change. The road 
led across a dre arr waste without verdure ; and where there 
was neither fountain, nor pool, nor running stream. The men 
now began to experience the torments of thirst, aggravated by 
their usual diet of dried fish. The thirst of the Canadian 
voyageurs became so insupportable as to drive them to the< 
most revolting means of allaying it. For twenty-five miles 
did they toil on across this dismal desert, and laid themselves 
down at night, parched and disconsolate, beside their worm- 
wood fires ; looking forward to still greater sufferings on the 
following day. Fortunately, it began to rain in the night, to 
their infinite relief; the water soon collected in puddles and 
afforded them delicious draughts. 

Eefreshed in this manner, they resumed their wayfaring as 
soon as the first streaks of dawn gave light enough for them to 
see their path. The rain continued all day, so that they no 
longer suffered from thirst, but hunger took its place, for after 
travelling thirty-three miles they had nothing to sup on but a 
little parched corn. 

The next day brought them to the banks of a beautiful little 
stream, running to the west, and fringed with groves of cotton- 
wood and willow. On its borders was an Indian camp, with a 
great many horses grazing around it. The inhabitants, too, 
a]3peared to be better clad than usual. The scene was alto- 
gether a cheering one to the poor half-famished wanderers. 
They hastened to the lodges, but on arriving at them, met with 
a check that at first dampened their cheerfulness. An Indian 
immediately laid claim to the horse of Mr. Hunt, saying that 
it had been stolen from him. There was no disproving a fact 
supported by numerous bystanders, and which the horse-steal- 
ing habits of the Indians rendered but too probable; so Mr. 
Hunt relinquished his steed to the claimant ; not being able to 
retain him by a second purchase. 

At this place they encamped for the night, and made a 
sumptuous repast upon fish and a couple of dogs, procured 
from their Indian neighbors. The next day they kept along 
the river, but came to a halt after ten miles' march, on account 
of the rain. Here they again got a supply of fish and dogs 
from the natives ; and two of the men were fortunate enough 
each to get a horse in exchange for a buffalo robe. One of these 
men Avas Pi<n'rG Dorion, the lialf-brccd interpreter, to whose 
suffering family th: horse Avas a nio.'rJfc timely acquisition. And 



ASTORIA. 225 

here we cannot but notice the wonderful patience, persever- 
ance, and hardihood of the Indian women, as exemphfied in 
the conduct of the poor squaw of the interpreter. She was 
now far advanced in her pregnancy, and had two children to 
take care of, one four, and the other two years of a,ge. The 
latter of course she had frequently to carry on her back, in 
addition to the burden usually imposed upon the sqtiaw, yet 
she had borne all her hardships without a murmur, and 
throughout this weary and painful journey had kept pace 
with tiie best of the pedestrians. Indeed on various occasions 
in the course of this enterprise, she disi3layed a force of char- 
acter that won the respect and applause of the white men, 

Mr, Hunt endeavored to gather some information from these 
Indians concerning the country and the course of the rivers. 
His communications with them had to be by signs, and a few 
words which he had learnt, and of course were extremely 
vague. AU that he could learn from them was that the great 
river, the Columbia, was still far distant, but he could ascer- 
tain nothing as to the route he ought to take to arrive at it. 
For the two following days they contmuecl westward upward 
of forty miles along the little stream, until they crossed it just 
before its junction with Snake River, which they found still 
running to the north. Before them was a wintry-looking 
mountain covered with snow on all sides. 

In three days more they made about seventy miles, fording 
two small rivers, the water's of which were very cold. Provi- 
sions were extremely scarce ; their chief sustenance was porta- 
ble soup, a meagre diet for weary pedestrians. 

On the 27th of November the river led them into the moun- 
tains through a rocky defile where there was scarcely room to 
pass. They were frequently obliged to unload the horses to 
get them by the narrow places, and sometimes to wade through 
the water in getting round rocks and butting cliffs. All their 
food this day was a beaver which they had caught the night 
before ; by evening the cravings of hunger v/ere so sharp, and 
the prospect of any supply among the mountains so faint, that 
they had to kill one of the horses. " The men," says Mr. Hunt- 
in his journal, '' find the m.eat very good, and indeed, so should 
I, were it not for the attachment I have to the animal." 

Early in the following day, after proceeding ten miles to the 
north, they came to two lodges of Shoshonies, who seemed in 
nearly as great an extremity as themselves, having just kiUed 
two horses for food. They had no other provisions excepting 



226 ASTORIA. 

the seed of a weed which they gather in great quantities, and 
pound fine. It resembles hemp seed. Mr. Hunt purchased a 
bag of it, and also some small pieces of horse-flesh, which he 
began to relish, pronouncing them " fat and tender." 

From these Indians he received inforina.tion that several 
white men had gone down the river, some one side, and a good 
many cxi the other ; these last he conclnded to be Mr. Crooks 
and his party. He was thus released from much anxiety about 
their safety, especially as the Indians spoke of Mr. Crooks 
having one of his dogs yet, which showed that he and his men 
had not been reduced to extremity of hunger. 

As Mr, Hunt feared that he might be several days in passing 
through this mountain defile, and run the risk of famine, he 
encamped in the neighborhood of the Indians, for the purpose 
of bartering v/ith them for a horse. The evening was expended 
in ineffectual trials. He offered a gun, a buffalo robe, and 
various other articles. The poor fellovfs had, probably, like 
himself, the fear of starvation before their eyes. At length the 
women, learning the object of his pressing solicitations and 
tempting offers, set up such a terrible hue and cry that he was 
fairly howled and scokled from the ground. 

The next morning early, the Indians seemed very desirous 
to get rid of their visitors, fearing, probably, for the safety of 
their horses. In reply to Mr. Hunt's inquiries about the moun- 
tains, they told him that he would have to sleep but three 
nights more among them, and that six days' travelling would 
take him to the falls of the Columbia; information in which ho 
put no faith, believing it was only giA^en to induce him to set for- 
ward. These, he was told, v^ere the last Snakes he would meet 
with, and that he would soon com^e to a nation called Sciatogas. 

Forward then did he proceed on his tedious journey, which 
at every step grew more painful. The road continued for two 
days through narrow defiles, where they were repeatedly 
obliged to unload the horses. Sometimes the river passed 
through such rocky chasms and under such steep precipices 
that they had to leave it, and make their way, with excessive 
labor, over immense hiUs, almost impassable for horses. On 
some of these hills were a few pine trees, and their summits 
were covered with snow. On the second day of this scramble 
one ^^. the 'mnters kilk J a black-tailed deer, which afforded 
the half-starved travellers a sumptuous repast. Their progress 
these two days v/as twenty-eight miles, a Mttle to the north- 
ward of east. 



ASTORIA, 99^ 

Tlie month of December set in drearily, with rain in the val- 
leys and snov/ upon the hills. They had to climb a mountain 
with snow to the midleg, which increased their painful toil. 
A small beaver supplied them v/ith a scanty meal, which they 
eked out T\ith frozen blackberries, haws, and choke-cherries, 
which they found in the course of their scramble. Their jour- 
ney this day, though excessively fatiguing, was but thirteen 
miles ; and ail the next day they had to remain encamped, not 
being able to see half a mile ahead, on account of a snow-storm. 
Having nothing else to eat, they were compelled to kill another 
of their horses. The next day they resumed their march in 
snow and rain, but with all their efforts could only get forward 
nine ixdles, having for a part of the distance to unload the 
horses and carry the packs themselves. On the succeeding 
morning they were obliged to leave the river and scramble up 
the hills. From the summit of these, they got a wide view of 
the surrounding coimtry, and it was a prospect almost sufficient 
to make them despair. In every direction they beheld snowy 
mountains, partially sprinkled with pines and other evergreens, 
and spreading a desert and toilsome world around them. The 
wind howled over the bleak and wintry landscape, and seemed 
to penetrate to the marrow of their bones. They waded on 
through the snow, wliich at every step was more than knee 
deep. 

After toiling in this way all day, they had the mortification 
to find that they were but four miles distant from the encamp- 
ment of the preceding night, such was the meandermg of the 
river among these dismal hills. Pinched with famine, ex- 
hausted with fatigue, with evening approaching, and a wintry 
wild still lengthening as they advanced, they began to look 
forward with sad forebodings to the night's exposure upon this 
frightful waste. Fortunately they succeeded in reaching a 
cluster of pines about sunset. Their axes were immediately at 
work: they cut down trees, piled them up in great heaps, and 
soon had huge fires " to cheer their cold and hungry hearts." 

About three o'clock in the morning it again began to snow, 
and at daybreak they found themselves, as it were, in a cloud, 
scarcely being able to distinguish objects at the distance of a 
hundred yards. Guiding themselves by the sound of running 
water, they set out for the river, and by slipping and sliding 
contrived to get down to its bank. One of the horses, missing 
his footing, rolled down several hundred yards with his load, 
but sustained no injury. The weather in the valley was less 



223 ASTORIA. 

rigorous than on tlie hills. The snow lay but ankle deep, and 
there was a quiet rain now falling. After creeping along for 
six niiles, they encamped on the border of the river. Being 
utterij^ destitute of provisions, they were again compelled to 
kill one of their horses to appease their famishing himger. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

The Y/anderers had now accomplished four hundred and 
seventy-two miles of their dreary journey since leaving the 
Caldron Linn ; how much further they had yet to travel, and 
VN^hat hardships to encounter, no one knew. 

On the morning of the 6th of December they left their dis- 
mal encampment, but had scarcely begun their march when, 
to their surprise, they beheld a party of white men coming up 
along the opposite bank of the river. As they drew nearer 
they were recognized for Mr. Crooks and his companions. 
When they came opposite, and could make themselves heard 
across the murmuring of the river, their first cry was for food ; 
in fact, they were almost starved. Mr. Hunt immediately 
returned to the camp, and had a kind of canoe made out of 
the skin of the horse killed on the preceding night. This was 
done after the Indian fashion, by drawing up the edges of the 
skin with thongs, and keeping them distended by sticks or 
thwarts pieces. In this frail bark, Sardepie, one of the Cana- 
dians, carried over a portion of the flesh of the horse to the 
famishing party on the opposite side of the river, and brought 
back with him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian, Le Clerc. The 
forlorn and wasted looks and starving condition of these two 
men struck dismay to the hearts of Mr. Hunt's followers. 
They had been accustomed to each other's appearance, and to 
the gradual operation of hunger and hardship upon their 
frames, but the change in the looks of these men, since last 
they parted, was a type of the famine and desolation of the 
land; and they now began to indulge the horrible presenti- 
ment that they v/ould all starve together, or be reduced to the 
direful alternative of casting lots ! 

When Mr. Crooks had appeased his hunger, he gave Mr. 
Hunt some account of his wayfaring. On the side of the river 
along v/hich he had kept ho had met with but few Indians, 



ASTORIA. 229 

and those were too miserably poor to yield much assistance, 
I'or the first eighteen days after leaving the Caldron Linn, he 
and his men had been confined to half a meal in twenty-four 
hours ; for three days following they had subsisted on a single 
beaver, a few wild cherries, and the soles of old moccasons ; 
and for the last six days their only animal food had been the 
carcass of a dog. They had been three days' journey further 
down the river than Mr. Hunt, always keeping as near to its 
banks as possible, and frequently chmbing over sharp and 
rocky ridges that projected into the stream. At length they 
had arrived to where the mountains increased in height, and 
came closer to the river, with perpendicular precipices, which 
rendered it impossible to keep along the stream. The river here 
rushed with incredible velocity through a defile not more than 
thirty yards wide, where cascades and rapids succeeded each 
other almost without intermission. Even had the opposite 
banks, therefore, been such as to permit a continuance of their 
journey, it would have been madness to attempt to pass the 
tumultuous current, either on rafts or otherwise. Still bent, 
however, on pushing forward, they attempted to climb the 
opposing mountains ; and struggled on through the snow for 
half a day until, coming .to where they could command a 
prospect, they found that they were not half way to the sum- 
mit, and that mountain upon mountain lay piled beyond them, 
in wintry desolation. Famished and emaciated as they were, 
to continue forward would be to perish; their only chance 
seemed to be to regain the river, and retrace their steps up its 
banks. It was in this forlorn and retrograde march that they 
had met Mr. Hunt and his party. 

Mr. Crooks also gave information of some others of their 
fellow adventurers. He had spoken several days previously 
with Mr. Reed and Mr. M'Kenzie, who with their men were on 
the opposite side of the river, v/here it was impossible to get 
over to them. They informed him that Mr. M'Lellan had 
struck across from the little river above the mountains, in the 
hope of falling in with some of the tribe of Flatheads, who in- 
habit the western skirts of the Rocky range. As the com- 
panions of Reed and M'Kenzie were picked men, and had 
found provisions more abundant on their side of the river, 
they were in better condition, and more fitted to contend with 
the difficulties of the country, than those of Mr. Crooks, and 
when he lost sight of them^ were pushing onward, down the 
course of the river. 



230 ASTORIA. 

Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, 
and to determine what was to be done. No time was to be 
lost ; he had twenty men and more in his own party to pro- 
vide for, and Mr. Crooks and his men to relieve. To linger 
would be to starve. The idea of retracing his steps was intol- 
erable, and, notwithstanding all the discouraging accounts of 
the ruggedness of the mountains lower down the river, he 
would have been disposed to attempt them, but the depth of 
the snow with which they were covered deterred him ; having 
already experienced the impossibility of forcing his way against 
such an impediment. 

The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be to return and 
seek the Indian bands scattered along the small rivers above 
the mountains. Perhaps from some of these he might procure 
horses enough to support him until he could reach the Colum- 
bia ; for he still cherished the hope of arriving at that river in 
the course of the winter, though he was apprehensive that 
few of Mr. Crooks' party would be sufficiently strong to follow 
him. Even in adopting this course he had to make up his 
mind to the certainty of several days of famine at the outset, 
for it would take that time to reach the last Indian lodges 
from which he had parted, and until they should arrive there 
his people would have nothing to subsist upon but haws and 
wild berries, excepting one miserable horse, which was little 
better than skin and bone. 

After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to 
his men the dreary alternative he had adopted, pmd prepara- 
tions were made to take Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc across the 
river, with the remainder of the meat a,s the other party were 
to keep up along the opposite bank. The skin canoe had un- 
fortunately been lost in the night; a raft was constructed, 
therefore, after the manner of the natives, of bundles of wil- 
lows, but it could not be floated across the impetuous current. 
The men were directed, in consequence, to keep on along the 
river by themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc would pro- 
ceed with Mr. Himt. They all then took up their retrograde 
march with drooping spirits. 

In a little while it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc 
were so feeble as to walk with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt 
was obliged to retard his pace, that they might keep up with 
him. His men grew impatient at the delay. They murmured 
that they had a long and desolate region to traverse, before 
they could arrive at the point where they might expect to find 



ASTORIA. 23J 

horses; that it was impossible for Crooks and Le Clerc, in 
their feeble condition, to get over it ; that to remain with them 
would only be to starve in their company. They importuned 
Mr. Hunt, therefore, to leave these unfortuno.te men to their 
fate, and think only of the safety of himself and iiis party. 
Fmding iiim not to be moved, either by entreaties or their 
clamors, they began to proceed v/ithout him, singly and in 
parties. Among those who thus went off v/as Pierre Dorion, 
the interpreter. Pierre owned the only remaining horse, which 
was now a mere skeleton. Mr. Hunt had suggested, in their 
present extremity, that it should be killed for food ; to which 
the half-breed liatly refused his assent, and cudgelling the 
miserable animal forward, pushed on sullenly, with the air of 
a man doggedly determined to quarrel for his right. In this 
way Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another break away, 
until but five remained to bear him company. 

On the following morning another raft was made, on which 
Mr. Crooks and Le Cierc again attempted to ferry themselves 
across the river, but after repeated trials had to give up in 
despair. This caused additional delay ; after which they con- 
tinued to crawl forward at a snail's pace. Some of the men 
who had remained with Mr. Hunt now became impatient of 
these incmnbrances, and urged him clamorously to push for- 
ward, crying out that they should all starve. The night which 
succeeded was intensely cold, so that one of the men was 
severely frost-bitten. In the course of the night Mr. Crooks 
was taken ill, and in the morning was still more incompetent 
to travel. Their situation was nov/ desperate, for their stock 
of provisions v/as reduced to three beaver-skins. Mr. Hunt, 
therefore, resolved to push on, overtake his people, and insist 
upon having the horse of Pierre Dorion sacrificed for the relief 
of all hands. Accordingly he left two of his men to help 
Crooks and Le Clerc on their wp^y, giving them two of the 
beaver skins for their suj^port ; the remaining siiin he retained, 
as provision for himself and the three other 33ien who struck 
forward with him. 



232 A8T0EIA. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

All that day Mr. Hunt and his three comrades travelled 
without eating. At night they made a tantalizing supper on 
their beaver skin, and v/ere nearly exhausted by hunger and 
cold. The next day, December 10th, they overtook the ad- 
vance party, who were all as much famished as themselves, 
some of them not having eafcen since the morning of the 
seventh. Mr. Hunt now proposed the sacrifice of Pierre 
Dorion's skeleton horse. Here he again met with positive 
and vehement opposition from the half-breed, who was too 
sullen and vindictive a fellow to be easily dealt with. What 
was singular, the men, though suffering such pinching hunger, 
interfered in favor of the horse. They represented that it was 
better to keep on as long as possible without resorting to this 
last resource. Possibly the Indians, of whom they were in 
quest, might have shifted their encampment, in which case it 
would be time enough to kill the horse to escape starvation. 
Mr. Hunt, therefore, was prevailed upon to grant Pierre 
Dorion's horse a reprieve. 

Fortunately, they had not pro3eeded much farther, when, 
toward evening, they came in sight of a lodge of Shoshonies, 
with a number of horses grazing around it. The sight was as 
unexpected as it was joyous. Having seen no Indians in this 
neighborhood as they passed down the river, they must have 
subsequently come out from among the mountains. Mr. 
Hunt, who first descried them, checked the eagerness of his 
conipa,nions, knowing the unwillingness of these Indians to 
part with their horses, and their aptness to hurry them off 
and conceal them, in case of an alarm. Tliis was no time to 
risk such a disappointment. Approaching, therefore, stealthily 
and silently, they came upon the savages by surprise, who 
fled in terror. Five of their horses were eagerly seized, and 
one was dispatched upon the spot. The carcass was imme- 
diately cut up, and a part of it hastily cooked and ravenously 
devoured. A man was now sent on horseback with a supply 
of the flesh to Mr. Crooks and his companions. He reached 
them in the night; they were so famished that the supply sent 
them Gcemed but to aggravate their hunger, and they were 



ASTORIA. 233 

almost tempted to kill and eat the horse that had brought the 
messenger. Availing themselves of the assistance of the ani- 
mal, they reached the camp early in the morning. 

On arriving there, Mr. Crooks was shocked to find that, while 
the people on this side of the river vs^ere amply suT)plied with 
provisions, none had been sent to his own forlorn and famish- 
ing men on the opposite bank. He immediately caused a skin 
canoe to be constructed, and called out to his men to fill their 
camp-kettles with water and hang tliem over the fire, that no 
time might be lost in cooking the meat the moment it should 
be received. The river was so narrow, though deep, that every- 
thing could be distinctly heard and seen across it. The kettles 
were placed on the fire, and the water was bofiing by the time 
the canoe was completed. When all was ready, however, no 
one would undertake to ferry the meat across. A vague and 
almost superstitious terror had mfected the minds of Mr. 
Hunt's followers, enfeebled and rendered imaginative of hor- 
rors by the dismal scenes and sufferings through which they 
had passed. They regarded th3 haggard crew, hovering hko 
spectres of famine on the opposite bank, with indefinite feel- 
ings of av7c and apprehension, as if something desiderate and 
dangerous was to be feared from them. 

Mr. Crooks tried in vain to reason or shame them out of this 
singular state of mind. He then attempted to naviga,te the 
canoe himself, but found his strength incompetent to brave 
the impetuous current. The good feelings of Ben Jones, the 
Kentuckian, at length overcame his fears, and he ventured 
over. The suj^ply he brought v/as received with trembling 
avidity. A poor Canadian, hovv^ever, named Jean Eaptiste 
Prevost, whom famine had rendered wild and desiderate, ran 
frantically about the baak, after Jones had returned, crying 
out to Mr. Hunt to send the canoe for him, and take him from 
that horrible region of famine, declaring that otherwise lie 
would never march another step, but would lie down there 
and die. 

The canoo was shortly sent over again under the manage- 
ment of Joseph Delaunay, with further supplies. Prevost 
immediately pressed forward to embark. Delaimay refused to 
admit him, telling him that there wa.s now a sufiicient supply 
of mea.t on his side of the river „ He replied that it was not 
cooked, and he should starve before it vras ready ; he implored, 
therefore, to be taken where he could get something to appease 
his hunger immediately. Finding the canoe putting ou with- 



234 ASTORIA. 

out him, he forced himself aboard. As he drew near the 
opposite shore, and beheld meat roasting before the fire, he 
jumped up, shouted, clapped his hands, and danced in a deh- 
rium of joy, until he upset the canoe. The i^oor wretch was 
swept away by the current and drowned, and it was with ex- 
treme difficulty that Delaunay reached the shore. 

Mr, Hunt now sent all his men forward excei)ting two or 
three- In the evening he caused another horse to be killed, 
and a canoe to be made out of the skin, in ^vhich he sent over 
a further supply of meat to the opposite party. The canoe 
brought back John Day, the Kentucky hunter, who came to 
join his former employer and commander, Mr. Crooks. Poor 
Day, unce so active and vigorous, was now reduced to a condi- 
tion even more feeble and emaciated than his companions. 
Mr. Crooks had such a value for the man, on account of his 
past services and faitliful character, that he determined not to 
quit liim ; he exhorted Mr. Hunt, however, to proceed forward, 
and join the party, as his presence was ail important to the 
conduct of the expedition. One of the Canadians, Jean Bap- 
tiste Dubreuil, likewise remained with Mr. Crooks. 

Mr. Hunt left two horses with them, and a part of the car- 
cass of the last that had been killed. This, he hoped, would be 
sufficient to sustain them until they should reach the Indian 
encampment. 

One of the chief dangers attending the enfeebled condition 
of Mr. Crooks and his companions was their being overtaken 
by the Indians whose horses had been seized, though Mr. Hunt 
hoped that he had guarded against any resentment on the part 
of the savages, by leaving various articles in their lodge, more 
than sufficient to compensate for the outrage he had been com- 
pelled to commit. 

Resuming his onward course, Mr. Hunt came up with his 
people in the evening. The next day, December 13th, he be- 
held several Indians, with three horses, on the opposite side of 
the river, and after a time came to the two lodges which he 
had seen on going down. Here he endeavored in vain to 
barter a rifle for a horse, but again succeeded in efl'ecting the 
purchase with an old tin kettle, aided by a few beads. 

The two succeeding days were cold and stormy ; the snow 
was augmenting, and there was a good deal of ice running in 
the river. Their road, however, was becoming easier; they 
were getting out of the hills, and finally emerged into the open 
country, after twenty days of fati^^us, famine, and hardship of 



ASTORIA. 235 

every kind, in the ineffectual attempt to find a passage down 
the river. 

They now encamped on a httle willowed stream, running 
from the east, which they had crossed on the 26th of Novem- 
ber. Here they found a dozen lodges of Shoshonios, recently 
arrived, who informed them that had they persevered along 
the river, they would have found tlieir difficulties augment 
until they became absolutely insurmountable. This intelli- 
gence added to the anxiety of Mr. Hunt for the fate of Mr. 
M'Kenzie and his people, who had kept on. 

Mr. Hunt now followed up the little river, and encamped r.t 
some lodges of Shoshonies, from whom he procured a couple 
of horses, a dog, a few dried fish, and some roots and dried 
cherries. Two or three days v/ere exhausted in obtaining in- 
formation about the route, and what time it would take to get 
to the Sciat)gas, a hospitable tribe on the west side of the 
mountains, represented as having many horses. The replies 
were various, but concurred in saying that the distance was 
great, and would occupy from seventeen to twenty-one nights. 
Mr. Hunt then tried to procure a guide ; but though he sent to 
various lodges up and down the river, offering articles of great 
value in Indian estima,tion, no one vv^ould venture. The snow, 
they said, was waist deep in the mountains; and to all his 
offers they shook their heads, gave a shiver, and replied, " V/e 
shall freeze ! we shall freeze !" At the same time they urged 
him to remain and pass the winter among them. 

Mr. Hunt was in a dismal dilemma. To attempt the moun- 
tains without a guide would be certain death to him and all his 
people ; to remain there, after having already been so long on 
the journey, and at such great expense, was worse to him, he 
said, than "two deaths." He now changed his tone with the 
Indians, charred them with deceiving him in respect to the 
mountains, and talking with a "forked tongue," or, in other 
words, with lying. He upbraided them with their want of 
courage, and told them tliej v/ere women, to shrink from the 
perils of such a journey. At length one of them, piqued by his 
taunts, or tempted by his offers, agreed to be his guide ; for 
which he was to receive a gun, a pistol, tlii-ee knives, two 
horses, and a little of every article in possession of the party ; 
a reward sufficient to make him one of the wealthiest of his 
vagabond nation. 

Once more, then, on the 21st of December, they set cut upon 
their way faring with newly oxcited spirits. Two other Indians 



236 ASTORIA. 

accompanied their guide, who led them immediately back to 
Snake River, which they followed down for a short distance, 
in search of some Indian rafts made of reeds, on which they 
might cross. Finding none, Mr. Hant caused a horse to be 
killed and a canoe to be made out of its skin. Here, on the 
opposite bank, they saw the thirteen men of Mr. Crooks' party, 
who had continued up along the river. They told Mr. Hunt, 
across the stream, that they had not seen Mr. Crooks, and the 
two men who had remained with him, since the day that he 
had separated from them. 

The canoe proving too small, another horse was killed, and 
the skin of it joined to that of the first. Night came on before 
the little bark had made more than two voyages. Being badly 
made, it was taken apart and put together again, by the light 
of the fire. The night was cold ; the men were weary and dis- 
heartened with such varied and incessant toil and hardship. 
They crouched, dull and drooping, around their fires ; many of 
them began to express a wish to remain where they were foi 
the winter. The very necessity of crossing the river dismayed 
some of them in their present enfeebled and dejected state. 
It was rapid and turbulent, and filled with floating ice, and 
they remembered that two of their comrades had already per- 
ished in its waters. Others looked forward with misgivings to 
the long and dismal journey through lonesome regions that 
awaited them, when they should have passed this dreary flood. 

At an early hour of the morning, December 23d, they began 
to cross the river. Much ice had formed during the night, and 
they v/ere obliged to break it for some distance on each shore. 
At length they all got over in safety to the west side ; and 
their spirits rose on having achieved this perilous passage. 
Here they were rejoined by the people of Mr. Crooks, who had 
with them a horse and a dog, which they had recently pro- 
cured. The poor fellows were in the most squalid and ema- 
ciated state. Three of them were so completely prostrated in 
fitrength and spirits that they expressed a wish to remain 
among the Snakes. Mr. Hunt, therefore, gave them tlie canoe, 
that they might cross the river, and a few articles, with v/hich 
to procure necessaries until they should meet with Mr. Crooks. 
There v/as another man, named Michael Carricre, who was al- 
most equally reduced, but lie determined to proceed ^vith his 
comrades, who were now incorporated v/ith the party of Mr. 
Hunt. After the day's exertions they encamped together on 
the banks of the river. This was the last night they were to 



ASTORIA. 237 

spend upon its borders. More than eight hundred miles of 
hard traveUing and many weary days had it cost them, and 
the suft'erings connected with it rendered it hateful in their re- 
membrance, so that the Canadian voyageurs always spoke of 
it as " La maudite riviere enragee " — the accursed mad river, 
thus coupling a malediction with its name. 



OHAPTEE XXXVII. 

On the 24th of December, all things being arranged, Mr. 
Hunt turned his back upon the disastrous banks of Snake 
River, and struck his course westward for the mountains. His 
party, being augmented by the late followers of Mr. Crooks, 
amounted now to thirty-two white men, three Indians, and 
the squaw and two children of Pierre Dorion. Five jaded, 
half -starved horses were laden with their luggage, and, in case 
of need, were to furnish them with provisions. They travelled 
painfully about fourteen miles a day, over plains and among 
hills, rendered dreary by occasional falls of snow and rain. 
Their only sustenance was a scanty meal of horse-flesh once in 
four-and-twenty hours. 

On the third day the poor Canadian, Carriere, one of the 
famished party of ISlv. Crooks, gave up m despair, and lying 
down upon the ground declared he could go no farther. Ef- 
forts were made to cheer him up, but it was found that the 
poor fellow was absolutely exhausted and could not keep on 
his leprs. He was mounted, therefore, upon one of the horses, 
though the forlorn animal was in little better plight than 
himself. 

On the 28th they came upon a small stream winding to the 
north, through a fine level valley, the mountains receding on 
each side. Here their Indian friends pointed out a cham of 
woody mountains to the left, running north and south, and 
covered with snow, over v^^hich they would have to pass. They 
kept along the valley for twenty -one miles on the 29th, suffer- 
ing much from a continued fall of snow and rain, and being 
twice obhged to ford the icy stream. Early in the following 
morning the squaw of Pierre Dorion, who had hitherto kept 
on without murmuring or flinching, was suddenly taken in 
labor, and enriched her husband with another child. As the 



238 'ASTOniA. - 

fortitude and good conduct of the poor woman had gained fo]* 
her the good will of the party, her situation caused concern 
and perplexity. Pierre, however, treated the matter as an oc- 
currence that could soon be arranged and need cause no delay. 
He remained by his wife in the camp, with his other children 
and his horse, and promised soon to rejoin the main body, who 
proceeded on their march. 

Finding that the little river entered the mountains, they 
abandoned it, and turned off for a few miles among hills. 
Here another Canadian, named La Bonte, gave out, and had 
to be helped on horseback. As the horse was too weak to bear 
both him and his pack, Mr. Hunt took the latter upon his own 
shoulders. Thus, with difficulties augmenting at every step, 
they urged their toilsome way among the hills, half famished 
and faint at heart, when they came to where a fair valley 
spread out before them of great extent, and several leagues in 
width, with a beautiful stream meandering through it. A 
genial climate seemed to prevail here, for though the snow 
lay upon all the mountains within sight, there was none to be 
seen in the valley. The travellers gazed with delight upon this 
serene, sunny landscape, but their joy was complete on behold- 
ing six lodges of Shoshonies pitched upon the borders of the 
stream, with a number of horses and dogs about them. They 
all pressed forward with eagerness and soon reached the camp. 
Here their first attention was to obtain provisions. A rifie, an 
old musket, a tomahawk, a tin kettle, and a small quantity of 
ammunition soon procured them four horses, three dogs, and 
some roots. Part of the live stock was immediately killed, 
cooked with all expedition, and as promptly devoured. A 
hearty meal restored every one to good spirits. In the course 
of the following morning the Dorion family made its reappear- 
ance. Pierre came trudging in the advance, followed by his 
valued, though skeleton steed, on which was mounted his 
squaw with the new-born infant in her arms, and her boy of 
two years old wrapped in a blanket and slung at her side^ 
The mother looked as unconcerned as if nothing had happened 
to her; so easy is nature in her operations in the wilderness, 
when free from the enfeebling refinements of luxury, and the 
tamperings and appliances of a,rt. 

The next morning ushered in the new year (1812). Mr. Hunt 
was about to resume his march when his men requested per- 
mission to celebrate the day. This was particularly urged 
by the Canadian voyageurs, with whom new-year's day is a 



ASTOEIA. 230 

favorite festival, and who never willingly give up a holiday, 
under any circumstances. There was no resisting such an 
application ; so the day was passed in repose and revelry ; the 
poor Canadians contrived to sing and dance in defiance of all 
their hardships, and there v/as a sumptuous new-j^ear's ban- 
quet of dog's-meat and horse-flesh. 

After two days of welcome rest the travellers addressed 
themselves once more to their painful journey. The Indians 
of the lodges pointed out a distant gap through which they 
must pass in traversing the ridge of mountains. They assured 
them that they would be but little incommoded by snow, and 
in three days would arrive among the Scia.togas. Mr. Hunt, 
however, had been so frequently deceived by Indian accounts 
of routes and distances, that he gave but little faith to this 
information. 

The travellers continued their course due west for nve days, 
crossing the valley and entering the mountains. Here the 
travelhng became excessively toilsome, across rough stony 
ridges, and amid fallen trees. They were often knee deep in 
snow, and sometimes in the hollows between the ridges sank 
up to their waists. The weather was extremely cold, the sky 
covered with clouds, so that for days they had not a glimpse of 
the sun. In traversing the highest ridge they had a wide but 
chilling prospect over a wilderness of snowy mountains. 

On the Gth of January, however, they had crossed the divid- 
ing summit of the chain, and were evidently under the influ- 
ence of a milder climate. The snow began to decrease, the sun 
once more emerged from the thick canopy of clouds, and shone 
cheeringly upon them, and they caught a sight of what ap- 
peared to be a plain stretching out in the west. They hailed it 
as the poor Israelites healed the first glimpse of the promised 
land, for th^y flattered themselves that this might be the great 
plain of the Columbia, and that their painful pilgrimage might 
be drawing to a close. 

It was now five days since they had left the lodges of the 
Shoshonies, during which they had come about sixty miles, and 
their guide assured them that in the course of the next day 
they would see the Sciatogas. 

On the following morning, therefore, they pushed forward 
with eagerness, and soon fell upon a small stream which led 
them through a deep, narrow defile, between stupendous ridges. 
Here among the rocks and precipices they saw gangs of that 
moimtain-ioving animal, the black-tailed deer, and came to 



240 ■ ASTORIA. 

where great tracks of horses were to bo seen in all directions, 
made by the Indian hunters. 

The snow had entirely disappeared, and the hopes of soon 
coining upon some Indian encam]Dnient induced Mr. Hunt to 
press on. Manj^ of the men, however, were so enfeebled that 
they could not keep up with the main body, but lagged, at in- 
tervals, behind, and some of them did not arrive at the night 
encampment. In the course of this day's march the recently 
born child of Pierre Dcrion died. 

The march was resumed early the next morning, without 
waiting for the stragglers. The stream which they had followed 
throughout the preceding day was now swollen by the influx of 
another river ; the declivities of the hills were green and the 
valleys were clothed with grass. At length the jovial cry was 
given of "an Indian camp I" It was yet in the distance, in the 
Bosom of the green valley, but they couJd perceive that it con- 
sisted of numerous lodges, and that hundreds of horses were 
grazing the grassy meadows around it. The prospect of abun- 
dance of horse-flesh diffused universal joy, for by this time 
the whole stock of travelling provisions was reduced to the 
skeleton steed of Pierre Dorion, and another v/retched animal, 
equally emaciated, that had been repeatedly reprieved during 
the journey. 

A forced march soon brought the weary and hungry travel- 
lers to the camp. It proved to be a strong party of Bciatogas 
and Tus-che-pas. There were thirty-four lodges, comfortably 
constructed of mats; the Indians, too, were better clothed 
than any of the wandering bands they had hitherto met on 
this side of the Rocky Mountains. Indeed they were as well 
clad as the generality of the wild hunter tribes. Each had a 
good buffalo or deer skin robe ; and a deer skin hunter shirt 
and leggins. Upward of two thousand horses were ranging the 
pastures around their encampment; but what delighted Mr. 
Hunt w^as, on entering the lodges, to behold brass kettles, axes, 
copper tea-kettles, and various other articles of civilized man 
ufacture, which showed that these Indians had an indirect 
communication with the people of the sea-coast who traded 
with the whites. He made eager inquiries of the Sciatogas, 
and gathered fi'om them that the grea,t river (the Columbia), 
was but two days' march distant, and that several white people 
had recently descended it, who he hoped might prove to be 
M'Lellan, M'Kenzie, and their companions. 

It was with the utmost joy, and the most profound gratitude 



ASTordA. 241 

to Heaven, that j\Ir. Hunt found himself and his band of weary 
and famishing wanderers, thus safely extricated from the most 
perilous part of their long journey, and withhi the prospect of 
a termination of their toils. Ail tiie stragglei'S, who had 
lagged behind, arrived, one after another, excepting the poor 
Canadian voyageur, Carriere. He had been seen late m the 
preceding afternoon, riding behind a Snake Indian, near some 
lodges of that nation, a few miles distant from the last night's 
encampment, and it was ex]3ected that he would soon make hih 
ai)pearance. 

The first object of Mr. Hunt was to obtain provisions for his 
men. A little venison, of an indifferent quality, and some 
roots were all that could be procured that evening; but the 
next day he succeeded in purchasing a mare and colt, which. 
were unmediately killed, and the cravings of the half-starved 
people in some degree appeased. 

For several days they remained in the neighborhood of these 
Indians, reposing after all their hardships, and feasting upon 
horse-flesh and roots, obtained in subsequent traffic. Many of 
the people ate to such excess as to render themselves sick, 
others were lame from their past journey ; but all gradually 
recruited in the repose and abundance of the valley. Horses 
were obtained here much more readily and at a cheaper rate 
than among the Snakes. A blanket, a knife, or a half pound 
of blue beads would purchase a steed, and at this rate many of 
the men bought horses for their individual use. 

Tliis tribe of Indians, vv ho are represented as a proud-spirited 
race, and uncommonly cleanly, never eat horses nor dogs, nor 
would they permit the raw flesh of either to be brought into 
their huts. They had a small quantity of venison in each 
lodge, but set so high a price upon it that the white men, in 
their impoverished state, could not afford to purchase it. They 
hunted the deer on horseback, "ringing," or surrounding 
them, and running them down in a circle. They were admi- 
rable horsemen, and their weapons were bows and arrows, 
which they managed with great dexterity. They were alto- 
gether primitive in their habits, and seemed to cling to the 
usages of savage life, even v/hen possessed of the aids of civili- 
zation. They had axes among them, yet they generally made 
use of a stone mallet wrought into the shape of a bottle, and 
wedges of elk-horn, in splitting their wood. Though they 
might have two or three brass kettles hanging in their lodges, 
yet they would frequently use vessels made of willow, for 



242 ASTOEIA. 

carrying water, and would even boil their meat in them, by 
means of hot stones. Their women wore caps of willow neatly 
worked a,nd figured. 

As Ca,rriere, the Canadian straggler, did not make his appear- 
ance for two or three days after the encampment in the valley, 
two men were sent out on horseback in search of him. They 
returned, however, without success. The lodges of the Snake 
Indians near which he had been seen were removed, and they 
could find no trace of him. Several days more elapsed, yet 
nothing was seen or heard of liim, or of the Snake horseman, 
behind whom he had been last observed. It was feared, there- 
fore, that he had either perished through hunger and fatigue ; 
had been murdered by the Indians ; or, being left to himself, 
had mistaken some hunting tracks for the trail of the party, 
and been led astray and lost. 

Tlie river on the banks of which they were encamped, emp- 
tied into the Columbia, v/as called by the natives the Eu-o-tal- 
la, or Umataila, and abounded w4th beaver. In the course of 
their sojourn in the valley which it watered, they twice shifted 
their carnp, proceeding about thirty miles down its course, 
which was to the west. A heavy fall of rain caused the river 
to overflow its banks, dislodged them from their encampment, 
and drov/ned three of their horses, which were tethered in the 
low ground. 

Further conversation with the Indians satisfied them that 
they were in the neighborhood of the Columbia. The number 
of the white men who they said had passed down the river, 
agreed with that of M'Lellan, M'Kenzie, and their companions, 
and increased the hope of Mr. Hunt that they might have 
passed through the vvdlderness w^tli soieiy. 

These Indians had a va,gu8 story that white men were coming 
to trade among them ; and they often spolio of two great men 
named Ke-Koosh and Jacquean, who gave them tobacco, and 
smoked with them. Jacquean, they said, had a house some- 
where upon the great river. Some of the Canadians supposed 
they were speaking of one Jacquean Finlay, a clei'k of the 
Northwest Company, and inferred that the house must be some 
trading post on one of the tributary streams of the Columbia. 
The Indians were overjoyed when they found this band of 
white men intended to return and trade with them. They 
promised to use all diligence in collecting quantities of beaver 
skins, and no doubt proceeded to make deadly war upon that 
sagacious, but ill-fated animal, who, in general, lived in peace- 



ASTOEIA. 243 

ful insignificance among his Indian neighbors, before the intru- 
sion of the white trader. On the 20th of January, Mr. Hunt 
took leave of these friendly Indians, and of the river on which 
they were encainj)ed, and continued westward. 

At length, on the following day, the wayworn travellers 
hfted up their eyes and beheld before them the long-sought 
waters of the Columbia. The sight was hailed with as much 
transi)ort as if they had already reached the end of their pil- 
grimage ; nor can we Avonder at their joy. Two hundred and 
forty miles had they marched, through wintry wastes and 
rugged mountains, since leaving Snake Eiver ; and six months 
of perilous wayfaring had they experienced since their depart- 
ure from the Arickara village on the Missouri. Their whole 
route by land and water from that point had been, according to 
their computation, seventeen hundred and fifty-one miles, in the 
course of which they had endured all kinds of ha^rdships. In 
fact, the necessity of avoiding the dangerous country of the 
Blackfeet had obliged them to make a bend to the south, and 
to traverse a great additional extent of unknown wilderness. 

The place where they struck the Columbia was some distance 
below the junction of its two great branches, Lewis and Clarke 
Rivers, and not far from the influx of the Wallah-WaUah. It 
was a beautiful stream, three quarters of a mile wide, totally 
free from trees ; bordered in some places with steep rocks, in 
others with pebbled shores. 

On the banks of the Columbia they found a, miserable horde 
of Indians, called Akai-chies, Avith no clothing but a scanty 
mantle of the skins of animals, and sometimes a pair of sleeves 
of wolf's skin. Their lodges were shaped like a tent, and very 
tight and warm, being covered with mats of ruslics; beside 
which they had excavations on the ground, lined v/ith mats, 
and occupied by the women, who were even more slightly clad 
than the men. These people subsisted chiefly by fishing ; hav- 
ing canoes of a rude construction, being merely the trunks of 
pine trees split and hoUowed out by fire. Their lodges were 
well stored with dried salmon, and they had great quantities 
of fresh salmon trout of an excellent flavor, taken at the mouth 
of the Umatalla ; of which the travellers obtained a most ac- 
ceptable supply. 

Finding that the roa,d was on the north side of the river, llr. 
Hunt crossed, and continued five or six days travelling rather 
slowly down along its banks, being much delayed by the stray- 
ing of the horses, and the attempts made by the Indians to 



244 ASTORIA. 

steal them. They frequently passed lodges, where they ob- 
tained fish and dogs. At one place the natives liad just re- 
turned from hunting, and had brought back a large quantity 
of elk and deer meat, but asked so high a price for it as to be 
beyond the funds of the travellers, so they had to content 
themselves with dog's flesh. They had by this time, however, 
come to consider it very choice food, superior to horse flesh, 
and the minutes of the expedition speak rather exultingly now 
and then, of their having made a "famous repast," where this 
viand happened to be unusually plenty. 

They again learnt tidmgs of some of the scattered members 
of the expedition, supposed to be M'Kenzie, M'Lellan, and their 
men, who had preceded them down the river, and had over- 
turned one of their canoes, by which they lost many articles. 
All these floating pieces of intelligence of their fellow adven- 
turers, who had separated from them in the heart of the wil- 
derness, they received with eager interest. 

The weather continued to be temperate, marking the superior 
softness of the climate on this side of the mountains. For a 
great part of the time, the days were delightfully mild and clear, 
like the serene days of October, on the Atlantic borders. The 
country in general, in the neighborhood of the river, was a 
continual plain, low near the water, but rising gradually ; des- 
titute of trees, and almost without shrubs or plants of any 
kind, excepting a few willow bushes. After travelling about 
sixty miles, they came to where the country became very 
hilly and the river made its way between rocky bo.nks and 
down numerous rapids. The Indians in this vicinity were 
better clad and altogether in more prosperous condition than 
those above, and, as Mr. Hunt thought, showed their con- 
sciousness of ease by something like sauciness of manner. 
Thus prosperity is apt to produce arrogance in savage as well 
as in civilized life. In both conditions man is an animal that 
will not bear pampering. 

From these people Mr. Hunt for the first time received vague 
but deeply interesting intelligence of that part of the enterprise 
which had proceeded by sea to the mouth of the Columbia. The 
Indians spoke of a number of white men who had built a large 
house at the mouth of the great river, and surrounded it with 
palisades. None of them had been down to Astoria themselves ; 
but rumors spread widely and rapidly from mouth to mouth 
among the Indian tribes, and are carried to the heart of the 
interior, by hunting paities and migratory hordes. 



ASTORIA. 245 

The establishment of a trading emporium at such a point, 
also, Avas calculated to cause a sensation to the most remote 
parts of the vast wilderness beyond the mountains. It, in a 
manner, struck the pulse of the great vital river, and vibrated 
up all its ti'ibutary streams. 

It is surprising to notice how well this remote tribe of sav- 
ages had learnt, through intermediate gossips, the private feel- 
ings of the colonists at xlstoria ; it shows that Indians are not 
the Incurious and indifferent observers that they have been 
represented. They told Mr. Hunt that the white people at the 
large house had been looking anxiously for many of their 
friends, whom they had expected to descend the great river ; 
and had been in much affliction, fearing that they were lost. 
Now, however, the arrival of him and his party would wipe 
away all their tears, and they would dance and sing for joy. 

On the 31st of January, Mr. Hunt arrived at the falls of the 
Columbia, and encamped at the village of Wish-ram, situated 
at the head of that dangerous pass of the river called ' ' the 
long narrows." 



CHAPTEE XXXVIII. 

Of the village of Wish-ram, the aborigines' fishing mart of 
the Columbia, we have given some account in an early chapter 
of this work. The inhabitants held a tra^ffic in the productions 
of the fisheries of the falls, and their village was the trading 
resort of the tribes from the coast and from the mountains. 
Mr. Hunt found the inhabitants shrewder and more intelligent 
than any Indians he had met with. Trade had sharpened 
their wits, though it had not improved their honesty ; for they 
were a community of arrant rogues and freebooters. Their 
habitations comported with their circumstances, and were su- 
perior to any the travellers had yet seen west of the Rocky 
Mountains. In general the dwellings of the savages on the 
Pacific side of that great barrier, were mere tents and cabins 
of mats, or skins, or straw, the country being destitute of tim- 
ber. In Wish-ram, on the contrary, the houses were built of 
wood, with long sloping roofs. The floor was sunk about six 
feet below the surface of the ground, with a low door at the 
gable end, extremely narrow, and partly sunk. Through this 



;^4t) ASTORIA. 

it was necessary to crawl, and then to descend a short ladder. 
This inconvenient entrance was probably for the purpose of 
defence ; there were loop-holes also under the eaves, apparently 
for the discharge of arrows. The houses were large, generally 
containing two or three families. Immediately within the 
door were sleeping places, ranged along the walls, like berths 
in a ship ; and furnished with pallets of matting. These ex- 
tended along one-half of the building ; the remaining half was 
appropriated to the storing of dried fish. 

The trading operations of the inhabitants of Wish-ram had 
given them a wider scope of information, and rendered their 
village a kind of headquarters of intelligence. Mr. Hunt was 
able, therefore, to collect more distinct tidings concerning the 
settlement of Astoria and its affairs. One of the inhabitants 
had been at the trading post established by David Stuart, on 
the Oakinagan, and had picked up a few words of Enghsh 
there. From him, Mr. Hunt gleaned various particulars about 
that establishment, as well as about the general concerns of the 
enterprise. Others repeated the name of Mr. M'Kay, the part- 
ner who perished in the massacre on board of the Tonquin, 
and gave some account of that melancholy affair. They said 
Mr. M'Kay was a chief among the white men, and had built a 
great house at the mouth of the river, but had left it and sailed 
jiway in a large ship to the northward, where he had been at- 
tacked by bad Indians in canoes. Mr. Hunt was startled by 
this intelligence, and made further inquiries. They informed 
him that the Indians had lashed their canoes to the ship, and 
fought until they had killed him and all his people. This is 
another instance of the clearness with which intelligence is 
transmitted from mouth to mouth among the Indian tribes. 
These tidings, though but partially credited by Mr. Hunt, filled 
his mind with anxious forebodings. He now endeavored to 
procure canoes in which to descend the Columbia, but none 
suitable for the purpose were to be obtained above the nar- 
rows ; he continued on, therefore, the distance of twelve miles, 
and encamped on the bank of the river. The camp was soon 
surrounded by loitering savages, who went prowling about, 
seeking what they might pilfer. Being baffled by the vigi- 
lance of the guard, they endeavored to compass their ends by 
other means. Toward evening, a number of warriors entered 
the camp in ruffling style; painted and dressed out as if for 
battle, and armed with lances, Tbows and arrows, and scalping 
knives. They informed Mr. Hunt that a party of thirty or 



ASTORIA. 247 

forty braves were coming up from a village below to attack 
the cami) and carry oft the horses, but that they were deter- 
mined to stay with him, and defend him. Mr. Hunt received 
them with great coldness, and, when they had finished their 
story, gave them a pipe to smoke. He then called up all 
hands, stationed sentinels in different quarters, but told them 
to keep as vigilant an eye within the camj) as without. 

The warriors were evidently baffied by these precautions, 
and, having smoked their pipe, and vapored off their valor, 
took their departure. The farce, however, did not end here. 
After a little while the warriors returned, ushering in another 
savage, still more heroically arrayed. This they announced 
as the chief of the belligerent village, but as a great pacificator. 
His people had been furiously bent upon the attack, and would 
have doubtless carried it into effect, but this gallant chief had 
stood forth as the friend of the white men, and had dispersed 
the throng by his own authority and prowess. Plaving 
vaunted this signal piece of service, there was a significant 
pause; all evidently expecting some adequate reward. Mr. 
Hunt again produced the pipe, smoked with the chieftain and 
his worthy compeers ; but made no further demonstrations of 
gratitude. They remained about the camp all night, but at 
daylight returned, baffled and crestfallen, to their homes, with 
notliing but smoke for their paiiLS. 

Mr. Hunt now endeavored to procure canoes, of which he 
sav/ several about the neighborhood, extremely v^ell made, 
with elevated stems and sterns, some of them capable of car- 
rying three thousand pounds weight. He found it extremely 
difficult, however, to deal with these slippery people, who 
seemed much more Inclined to pilfer. Notwithstanding a 
strict guard maintained round the camp, various implements 
were stolen, and several horses carried off. Among the latter 
we have to include the long-cherished steed of Pierre Dorion. 
From some wilful caprice, that worthy pitched his tent at 
some distance from the main body, and tethered his invaluable 
steed beside it, from vv^hence it was abstracted in the night, to 
the infinite chagrin and mortification of the hybrid interpreter. 

Having, after several days' negotiation, procured the requi- 
site number of canoes, Mr. Hunt would gladly ha,ve left this 
thievish neighborhood, but was detained until the 5th of Feb- 
ruary by violent head winds, accompanied by snow and rain. 
Even after he was enabled to get under way, he had still to 
struggle against contrary winds and tempestuous weather. 



248 ASTORIA. 

The current of the river, however, was in his favor ; having 
made a portage at the grand rapid, the canoes met with no 
further obstruction, and, on the afternoon of the 15th of Feb- 
ruary, swept round an intervening- cape, and came in sight of 
the infant settlement of Astoria. After eleven months wan- 
dering in the wilderness, a great part of the time over track- 
less wastes, where the sight of a savage wigv/am was a rarity, 
we may imagine the delight of the poor weather-beaten trav- 
ellers, at beholding the embryo establishment, with its maga- 
zines, habitations, and picketed bulwarks, seated on a high 
point of land, dominating a beautiful little bay, in which was 
a trim-built shallop riding quietly at anchor. A shout of joy 
burst from each canoe at the long-wished-for sight. They 
urged their canoes across the bay, and pulled with eagerness 
for shore, where all hands poured down from the settlement 
to receive and welcome them. Among the first to greet them 
on their landing, were some of their old comrades and fellow- 
sufferers, who, under the conduct of Eeed, M'Lellan, and 
M'Kenzie, had i^arted from them at the Caldron Linn. These 
had reached Astoria nearly a month previously, and, judging 
from their own narrow escape from starvation, had given up 
Mr. Hunt and his followers as lost. Their greeting was the 
more warm and cordial. As to the Canadian voy?vgeurs, their 
mutual felicitations, as usual, were loud and vociferous, and it 
was almost ludicrous to behold these ancient "comrades" and 
"confreres," hugging and kissing each other on the river 
bank. When the first greetings vv^ere over, the diiferent bands 
interchanged accounts of their several v/anderings, after sepa- 
rating at Snake River; we shall briefly notice a few of the 
leading particulars. It will be recollected by the reader, that 
a small exjploring detachment had proceeded down the river, 
under the conduct of Mr. John Eeed, a clerk of the company : 
that another had set off under M'Lellan, and a third in a 
diiferent direction, under Id'Kenzie. After wandering for 
several days without meeting with Indians, or obtaining any 
supplies, they came together fortuitously among the Snake 
Eiver mountains, some distance below that disastrous pass or 
strait, which had received the appellation of the Devil's Scuttle 
Hole. 

When thus united, their party consisted of M'Kenzie, M'Lel- 
lan, Eeed, and eight men, chiefly Canadians. Being all in the 
same predicament, without horses, provisions, or information 
of any kind, they all agreed that it would be v/orse than useless 



ASTOniA. 249 

to return to Mr. Hunt and encumber him with so many starv- 
ing men, and that their only course was to extricate themselves 
as soon as possible from this land of famine and misery, and 
make the best of their way for the Columbia. They accord- 
ingly continued to follow the downvrard course of Snake River; 
clambering rocks and mountains, and defying all the diffi- 
culties and dangers of that rugged defile, which subsequently, 
when the snows had fallen, was found impassable by Messrs. 
Hunt and Crooks. 

Though constantly near to the borders of the river, and for 
a gi'eat part of the time within sight of its current, one of their 
greatest sutferings was thirst. The river had worn its way 
in a deep channel through rocky mountains, destitute of brooks 
or springs. Its banks were so high and precipitous, that there 
was rarely any place where the travellers could get down to 
drink its waters. Frequently they suliered for miles the tor- 
ments of Tantalus; vv^ater continually within sight, yet fevered 
with the most parching thirst. Here and there they met with 
rain-water collected in the hollows of the rocks, but more than 
once they were reduced to the utmost extremity ; and som.e 
of the men had recourse to the last expedient to avoid per- 
ishing 

Their sufferings from hunger were equally severe. They 
could meet with no game, and subsisted for a time on strips of 
beaver skin, broiled on the coals. These were doled out in 
scanty allowances, barely sufficient to keep up existence, and 
at length failed them altogether. Still they crept feebly on, 
scarce dragging one limb after another, until a severe snow- 
storm brought them to a pa,use. To struggle against it, in 
their exhausted condition, Avas impossible; so cowering under 
an impending rock at the foot of a steep mountain, they pre- 
pared themselves for that wretched fate which seemed in- 
evitable. 

At this critical juncture, when famine stared them in the 
face, M'Lellan casting up his eyes, beheld an ahsahta, or big- 
horn, sheltering itself under a shelving rock on the side of the 
hill above them. Being in a more active plight than any of 
his comrades, and an excellent marksman, he set off to get 
within shot of the animal. His companions watched his move- 
ments with breathless anxiety, for their lives depended upon 
his success. He made a cautious circuit ; scrambled up the 
hill with the utmost silence, and at length arrived, unper- 
ceived, within a proper distance. Here levelling his rifle he 



250 ASTORIA, 

took so sure an aim, that the bighorn fell dead on the spot ; a 
fortunate circiunstance, for, to pursue it, if merely wounded, 
would have been impossible in his emaciated state. The de- 
clivity of the hill enabled him to roll the carcass down to his 
companions, who were too feeble to climb the rocks. They 
fell to work to cut it up ; yet exerted a remarkable self-denial 
for men in their starving condition, for they contented them- 
selves for the present with a soup made from the bones, re- 
serving the flesh for future reposts. This providential relief 
gave them strength to pursue their journey, but they were 
frequently reduced to almost equal straits, and it was only the 
smallness of their party, requiring a small supply of provi- 
sions, that enabled them to get through this desolate region 
with their lives. 

At length, after twenty-one days of toil and suffering, they 
got through these mountains, and arrived at a tributary stream 
of that branch of the Columbia called Lewis River, of which 
Snake River forms the southern fork. In this neighborhood 
they met with wild horses, the first they had seen west of the 
Rocky Mountains. From hence they made their way to Lewis 
River, where they fell in with a friendly tribe of Indians, who 
freely administered to their necessities. On this river they 
procured two canoes, in which they dropped down the stream 
to its confluence with the Columbia, and then down that river 
to Astoria, where they arrived haggard and emaciated, and 
perfectly in rags. 

Thus, all the leading persons of Mr. Hunt's expedition were 
once more gathered together, excepting Mr. Crooks, of whose 
safety they entertained but little hope, considering the feeble 
condition in which they had been compelled to leave him in the 
heart of the wilderness. 

A day was now given up to jubilee, to celebrate the arrival 
of Mr. Hunt and his companions, and the joyful meeting of the 
various scattered bands of adventurers at Astoria. The colors 
were hoisted ; the guns, great and small, were fired ; there v/as 
a feast of fish, of beaver, and venison, which relished well with 
men who had so long been glad to revel on horse flesh and dogs' 
meat; a genial allowance of grog was issued, to increase the 
general animation, and the festivities wound up, as usual, with 
a grand dance at night, by the Canadian voyageurs. * 

* The distance from St. Louis to Astoria, by the route travelled by Hunt and 
M'Konzie, was ujnvard of thirty-five hundred miles, though in a direct line it does 
not exceed eighteen hundred. 



ASTORIA. 951 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The winter had passed away tranquilly at Astoria. The ap- 
prehensions of hostility from the natives had subsided ; indeed, 
as the season advanced, the Indians for the most part had dis- 
appeared from the neighborhood, and abandoned the sea-coast, 
so that, for want of their aid, the colonists had at times suffered 
considerably for want of provisions. The hunters belonging to 
the establishment made frequent and wide excursions, but with 
very moderate success. There were some deer and a few bear^ 
to be found in the vicinity, and elk in great numbers; the 
country, however, was so rough, and the woods so close and 
entangled, that it was almost impossible to beat up the game. 
The prevalent rains of winter, also, rendered it difficult for the 
hunter to keep his arms in order. The quantity of game, 
therefore, brought in by the hunters was extremely scanty, 
and it was frequently necessary to put all hands on very 
moderate alloAvance. Toward spring, however, the fishing sea- 
son commenced — the season of plenty on the Columbia. About 
the beginning of February, a small kind of fish, about six inches 
long, called by the natives the uthlecan, and resembling the 
smelt, made its appearance at the mouth of the river. It is 
said to be of delicious flavor, and so fat as to burn like a candle, 
for which it is often used by the natives. It enters the river 
in mimense shoals, like sohd columns, often extending to the 
depth of five or more feet, and is scooped up by the natives 
with small nets at the end of poles. In this way they will soon 
fill a canoe, or form a great heap upon the river banks. These 
fish constitute a principal article of their food ; the women dry- 
ing them and stringing them on cords. As the uthlecan is 
only found in the lower part of the river, the arrival of it soon 
brought back the natives to the coast ; who again resorted to 
the factory to trade, and from that time furnished plentiful 
supplies of fish. 

The sturgeon makes its appearance in the river shortly after 
the utlilecan, and is taken in different ways, by the natives : 
sometimes they spear it ; but oftener they use the hook and 
line, and the net. Occasionally, they sink a cord in the river 
by a heavy weight, with a buoy at the upper end, to keep it 



252 ASTORIA. 

floating. To this cord several hooks are attached by short 
lines, a few feet distant from each other, and baited with small 
fish. This apparatus is often set toward night, and by the next 
morning several sturgeon will be found hooked by it; for 
though a large and strong fish, it makes but little resistance 
when ensnared. 

The salmon, which are the prime fish of the Columbia, and 
as important to the piscatoiy tribes as are the buffaloes to the 
hunters of the prairies, do not enter the river until toward the 
latter part of May, from which time until the middle of Aug- 
ust, they abound, and are taken in vast quantities, either with 
the spear or seine, and mostly in shallow water. An inferior 
species succeeds, and continues from AugTist to December. It 
is remarkable for having a double row of teeth, half an inch 
long and extremely sharp, from whence it has received the 
name of the dog- toothed salmon. It is generally killed with 
the spear in small rivulets, and smoked for winter provision. 
We have noticed in a former chapter the mode in. wliich the 
salmon are taken and cured at the falls of the Columbia ; and 
put up in parcels for exportation. From these dilEferent fisher- 
ies of the river tribes, the establishment at Astoria had to de- 
rive much of its precarious supplies of provisions. 

A year's residence at the mouth of the Columbia, and various 
expeditions in the interior, had now given the Astorians some 
idea of the country. The whole coast is described as remarka- 
bly rugged and mountainous ; with dense forests of hemlock, 
spruce, white and red cedar, cotton-wood, white oak, white and 
swamp ash, willow, and a few walnut. There is likewise an 
undergrowth of aromatic shrubs, creepers, and clambering 
vines, that render the forests almost impenetrable; together 
with berries of various kinds, such as gooseberries, strawber- 
ries, raspberries, both red and yellow, very large and finely 
flavored whortleberries, cranberries, serviceberries, blackber- 
ries, currants, sloes, and wild and choke cherries. 

Among the flowering vines is one deserving of particular no- 
tice. Each flower is composed of six leaves or petals, about 
three inches in length, of a beautiful crimson, the inside spotted 
with white. Its leaves, of a fine green, are oval, and disposed 
by threes. This plant climbs upon the trees without attaching 
itself to them ; when it has reached the topmost branches it de- 
scends perpendicularly, and as it continues to grow, extends 
from tree to tree, until its various stalks interlace the grove 
like the rigging of a ship. The stems or trunks of this vine are 



ASTOEIA. 253 

tougher and more flexible than willow, and are from fifty to 
one hundred fathoms in length. From the fibres, the Indians 
manufacture baskets of such close texture as to hold water. 

The principal quadrupeds that had been seen by the colonists 
in their various expeditions were the stag, fallow deer, hart, 
black and grizzly bear, antelope, ahsahta, or bighorn, beaver, 
sea and river otter, muskrat, fox, wolf, and panther, the latter 
extremely rare. The only domestic animals among the natives 
were horses and dogs. 

The country abounded with aquatic and land birds, such as 
swans, wild geese, brant, ducks of almost every descrii^tion, 
pelicans, herons, gulls, snipes, curlews, eagles, vultures, crows, 
ravens, magpies, woodpeckers, pigeons, partridges, pheasants, 
grouse, and a great variety of singing birds. 

There were few reptiles ; the only dangerous kinds were the 
rattlesnake, and one striped with black, yellow, and white, 
about four feet long. Among the lizard kind was one about 
nine or ten inches in length, exclusive of the tail, and three 
inches in circumference. The tail was round, and of the same 
length as the body. The head was triangular, covered with 
small square scales. The upper part of the body was likewise 
covered with small scales, green, yellow, black, and blue. 
Each foot had five toes, furnished with strong nails, probably 
to aid it in burrowing, as it usually lived underground on the 
plains. 

A remarkable fact, characteristic of the country west of the 
Eocky Mountains, is the mildness and equability of the 
chmate. That great mountain barrier seems to divide the 
continent into different climates, even in the same degrees of 
latitude. The rigorous winters, and sultry summers, and all 
the capricious inequalities of temperature prevalent on the 
Atlantic side of the mountains, are but little felt on their 
western declivities. The countries between them and the 
Pacific are blessed with milder and steadier temperature, re- 
sembling the climates of parallel latitudes in Europe. In the 
plains and valleys but little snow falls throughout the winter, 
and usually melts while falling. It rarely lies on the ground 
more than two days at a time, except on the summits of the 
mountains. The winters are rainy rather than cold. The 
rains for five months, from the middle of October to the mid- 
dle of Marcii, are almost incessant, and often accompanied 
by tremendous thunder and lightning. The winds prevalent at 
this season are from the south and southeast, which usually 



254 ASTORIA. 

bring rain. Those from the north to the southwest are the 
harbingers of fair weather and a clear sky. The residue of the 
year from the middle of March to the middle of October, an 
interval of seven months, is serene and delightful. There is 
scarcely any rain throughout this time, yet the face of the 
country is kept fresh and verdant by nightly dews, and occa- 
sionally by humid fogs in the mxornings. These are not con- 
sidered prejudicial to health, since both the natives and the 
whites sleep in the open air with perfect impunity. While 
this equable and bland temperature prevails throughout the 
lower country, the peaks and ridges of the vast mountains by 
which it is dominated, are covered with perj^etual snow. This 
renders them discernible at a great distance, shining at times, 
like bright summer clouds, at other times assuming the most 
aerial tints, and always forming brilliant and striking features 
in the vast landscape. The mild temperature prevalent 
throughout the country is attributed by some to the succession 
of winds from the Pacific Ocean, extending from latitude 
twenty degrees to at least fifty degrees north. These temper 
the heat of summer, so that in the shade no one is inconmioded 
by perspiration ; they also soften the rigors of winter, and pro- 
duce such a moderation in the climate, that the inhabitants 
can wear the same dress throughout the year. 

The soil in the neighborhood of the sea-coast is of a brown 
color, inclining to red, and generally poor ; being a mixture of 
clay and gravel. In the interior, and especially in the valleys 
of the Rocky Mountains, the soil is prenerally blackish ; though 
sometimes yellow. It is frequently mixed with marl, and 
with marine substances in a state of decomposition. This 
kind of soil extends to a considerable depth,, as may be per- 
ceived in the deep cuts made by ravines, and by the beds of 
rivers. The vegetation in these v?Jleys is much more abun- 
dant than near the coast; in fact, it is in these fertile in- 
tervals, locked up between rocky sierras, or scooped out from 
barren wastes, that population must extend itself, as it were, 
in veins and ramifications, if ever the regions beyond the 
mountains should become civilized. 



ASTORIA, 255 



CHAPTEE XL. 

A BRIEF mention has already been made of the tribes or 
hordes existing about the lower part of the Columbia at the 
time of the settlement; a few more particulars concerning 
them may be acceptable. The four tribes nearest to Astoria, 
and with whom the traders had most intercourse, were, as has 
heretofore been observed, the Chinooks, the Clatsops, the 
Wahkiacums, and the Cathlamets. The Cliinooks resided 
cliiefiy along the banks of a river of the same name, running 
parallel to the sea-coast, thi'ough a low country studded with 
stagnant pools, and emptying itself into Baker's Bay, a few 
miles from Cape Disappointment. This was the tribe over 
which Comcomly, the one-eyed chieftain, held sway ; it boasted 
two hundred and fourteen fighting men. Their chief subsist- 
ence was on fish, with an occasional regale of the flesh of elk 
and deer, and of wHd-fowl from the neighboring ponds. 

The Clatsops resided on both sides of Point Adams; they 
were the mere relics of a tribe wliich had been nearly swept 
off by the smallpox, and did not number more than one hun- 
dred and eighty fighting men. 

The Wahkiacums or Waak-i-cums, inhabited the north side 
of the Columbia, and numbered sixty-six warriors. They and 
the Chinooks were originally the same ; but a dispute arising 
about two generations previous to the time of the settlement 
between the ruhng cliief and his brother Wahkiacum, the 
latter seceded, and with his adherents formed the present 
horde which continues to go by his name. In this way new 
tribes or clans are formed, and lurking causes of hostihty 
engendered. 

The Cathlamets lived opposite to the lower village of the 
Wahkiacums, and numbered ninety-four warriors. 

These four tribes, or rather clans, have every appearance 
of springing from the same origin, resembling each other in 
person, dress, lang-uage, and manners. They are rather a 
diminutive race, generally below five feet five inches, with 
crooked legs and thick ankles; a deformity caused by their 
passing so much of their time sittmg or squatting upon the 
calves of their legs, and their heels, in the bottom of their 



256 • ASTORIA. 

canoes ; a favorite loosition, which they retain, even when on 
shore. The women increase the deformity by wearing tight 
bandages around the ankles, which prevent the circulation of 
the blood, and cause a swelling of the muscles of the leg. 

Neither sex can boast of personal beauty. Their faces are 
round, with small, but animated eyes. Their noses are broad 
and flat at top, and fleshy at the end, with large nostrils. 
They have wide mouths, thick lips, and short, irregular and 
dii'ty teeth. Indeed, good teeth are seldom to be seen among 
the tribes west of the Rocky Mountains, who live chiefly on 
flsh. 

In the early stages of their intercourse with white men, 
these savages were but scantily clad. In summer time the 
men went entirely naked ; in the v/inter and in bad weather, 
the men wore a small robe, reaching to the middle of the thigh, 
made of the skins of animals, or of the wool of the mountain 
sheep. Occasionally, they wore a kind of mantle of matting, 
to keep off the rain ; but having thus protected the back and 
shoulders, they left the rest of the body naked. 

The women wore similar robes, though shorter, not reaching 
below the waist; beside which, they had a kind of petticoat, or 
fringe, reaching from the waist to the knee, formed of the 
fibres of cedar bark, broken into strands, or a tissue of silk 
grass twisted and knotted at the ends. This was the usual 
dress of the women in summer; should the weather be in- 
clement, they added a vest of skins, similar to the robe. 

The men carefully eradicated every vestige of a beard, con- 
sidering it a great deformity. They looked with disgust at the 
whiskers and well-furnished chins of the white men, and in 
derision called them Long-beards. Both sexes, on the other 
hand, cherished the hair of the head, v/hich with them is gen- 
erally black and rather coarse. They allowed it to grow to a 
great length, and were very proud and careful of it, some- 
times wearing it x)laited, sometimes wound round the head in 
fanciful tresses. No greater afi'ront could be offered them 
than to cut off their treasured locks. 

They had conical hats with narrow rims, neatly woven of 
bear-grass or of the fibres of ceda.r bark, interwoven with de- 
signs of various shapes and colors ; sometimes merely squares 
and triangles, at other times rude representations of canoes, 
with men fishing and harpooning. These hats were nearly 
waterproof, and extremely durable. 

The favorite ornaments of the men were collare of bears' 



ASTORIA. 257 

craws, the pro-ja crophies of liunting exploits; while the wo- 
mer and caiidren wore similar decorations of elks' tusks. An 
in iei course with the white traders, however, soon effected a 
chau-^e in the toiietb of both sexes. They became fond of 
arraying themselves m any article of civilized dress which 
they v.^oald procure, ana often made a most grotesque appear- 
ance. They adapted many articles of finery, also, to their 
own jj-^evious tastes. Both sexes Vv^ere fond of adorning them- 
selves with bracelets oi' ii-oii, brass or copi^er. They were 
delighted, also, with blue ai^d white beads, particularly the 
former, And wore broad tight b.^nds of them round the waist 
and ankLtb; large rolls of them round the neck, and pendants 
of them in the ears. The men, especially, who, in savage hfe 
carry a pasbion for personal decorct,tion farther than the fe- 
males, did not think their gala eqa^pments comx)lete, unless 
they had a jewel of haiqua, or wampuixi, dangung at the nose. 
Thus arrayed, their hair besmeared witii fish oil, and their 
bodies bedaubed with red clay, th.Qj coxisidered themselves 
irresistible. 

When on v/arlike expeditions^ they painted their faces and 
bodies in the most hideous and grotesque maniier, according 
to the universal practice of American savages. Their arms 
were bows and arrows, spears, and war-clubs. Home wore a 
corslet formed of pieces of hard wood, laced together with 
bear-grass, so as to form a light coat of mail, pliant to the 
body ; and a kind of casque of cedar bark, lea,ther, and bear- 
grass, suflScient to protect the head from an arrow or war club. 
A more complete article of defensive armor was a buff jerkin 
or shirt of great thickness, made of doublings of elk skin, and 
reaching to the feet, holes being left for the head and arms. 
This was perfectly arrow j^roof ; add to which, it was often en- 
dowed with charmed virtues, by the spells and mystic cere- 
monials of the medicine man, or conjurer. 

Of the peculiar custom, prevalent among these people of 
flattening the head, we have already spoken. It is one oi 
those instances of human caprice, like the crippling of the feet 
of females in China, wliicli are quite incomprehensible. This 
custom prevails principally among the tribes on the sea-coast, 
and about the lovv^er parts of the rivers. How far it extends 
along the coast we are not able to ascertain. Some of the tribes, 
both north and south of the Columbia, practice it ; but they all 
speak the Chinook language, and probably originated from the 
same stock. As far as Ave can learn, the remoter tribes, which 



258 ASTORIA. 

speak an entirely different language, do not flatten tlie bead. 
This absurd custom declines, also, in receding from the shoi^es 
of the Pacific ; few traces of it are to bo found among the tribes 
of the Rocky Mountains, and after crossing the .mountains it 
disappears altogether. Those Indians, therefore, about the 
head waters of the Columbia, and in the solitary mountain 
regions, who are often called Flatheads, must not be supposed 
to be characterized by this deformity. It is an appellation 
often given by the hunters east of the mountain chain, to all 
the western Indians, excepting the Snakes. 

The religious belief of these people was extremely limited 
and confined ; or rather, in all probability, their explanations 
were but little understood by their visitors. They had an idea 
of a benevolent and omnipotent spirit, the creator of all things. 
They represent him as assuming various shapes at pleasure, 
but generally that of an immense bird. He usually inhabits 
the sun, but occasionally wings liis way through the aerial 
regions, and sees all that is doing upon earth. Should any- 
thing displease him he vents his wrath in terrific storms and 
tempests, the lightning being the flashes of his eye, and the 
thunder the clapping of his wings. To propitiate his favor 
th(}y oft'er him annual sacrifices of salmon and venison, the 
first-fruits of their fishing and hunting. 

Beside this aerial spirit they believe in an inferior one, who 
inhabits the fire, and of whom they are in perpetual dread, as, 
though he possesses equally the power of good and evil, the 
evil is apt to predominate. They endeavor, therefore, to keep 
him in good humor by frequent offerings. He is supposed also 
to have great influence with the v/inged spirit, tlieir sovereign 
protector and benefactor. They, implore him, therefore, to act 
as their interpreter, and procure them all desirable things, 
such as success in fishing and hunting, abundance of game, 
fleet horses, obedient wives, and male children. 

These Indians have likewise their priests, or conjurers, or 
medicine men, who pretend to be in the confidence of the c?ei- 
ties, and the expounders and enforcers of their will. Each of 
these medicine men has his idols carved in wood, representing 
the spirits of the air and of the fire, under some rude and gro- 
tesque form of a horse, a bear, a beaver, or other quadruped, 
or that of bird or fish. These idols are hung round with amu- 
lets and votive offermgs, such as beavers' teeth, and bears' and 
eagles' claws. 

When any chief personage is on his death-bed. or danc:er- 



ASTORIA. 259 

oiisly ill, the medicine men are sent for. Each brings with 
him his idols, with which he retires into a canoe to hold a con- 
sultation. As doctors are prone to disagree, so these medicine 
men have now and then a violent altercation as to the malady 
of the patient, or the treatment of it. To settle this they beat 
their idols soundly against each other ; whichever first loses a 
tooth or a claw is considered as confuted, and his votary re- 
tires from the field. 

Polygamy is not only allowed, but considered honorable, and 
the greater number of wives a man can maintain, the more 
important is he in the eyes of the tiibe. The first wife, how- 
ever, takes rank of all the others, and is considered mistress 
of the house. Still the domestic establishment is liable to 
jealousies and cabals, and the lord and master has much diffi- 
culty in maintaining harmony in his jangling household. 

In the manuscript from which we draw many of these partic- 
ulars, it is stated that he who exceeds his neighbors in the 
number of his wives, male children and slaves, is elected chief 
of the village ; a title to oflice which we do not recollect ever 
before to have met with. 

Feuds are frequent among these tribes, but are not very 
deadly. They have occasionally pitched battles, fought on 
appointed days, and at specified places, which are generally 
the banks of a rivulet. The adverse parties post themselves 
on the opposite sides of the stream, and at such distances that 
the battles often last a long while before any blood is shed. 
The number of killed and wounded seldom exceed half a dozen. 
Should the damage be equal on each side, the war is considered 
as honorably concluded ; should one party lose more than the 
other, it is entitled to a compensation in slaves or other prop- 
erty, otherwise hostilities are liable to be renewed at a future 
day. They are much given also to predatory inroads into the 
territories of their enemies, and sometimes of their friendly 
neighbors. Should they fall upon a band of inferior force, or 
upon a village, weakly derended, they act with the ferocity of 
crue poltroons, slaying all the men, and carrying off the 
women and children as slaves. As to the property, it is 
packed upon horses v/hich they bring v/ith them for the pur- 
pose. They are mean and paltry as v,^arriors, and altogether 
inferior in heroic qualities to the savages of the bulfalo plains 
on the east side of the mountains. 

A great portion of their time is passed in revelry, miusic, 
dancing, and gambling. Their music scarcely deserves the 



260 ASTORIA. 

name ; the instruments being of the rudest kind. Their sing- 
ing is harsh and discordant ; the songs are chiefly extempore, 
relating to passing circumstances, the persons present, or any 
trifling object that strikes the attention of the singer. They 
have several kinds of dances, some of them lively and pleas- 
ing. Tlie women are rarely permitted to dance with the men, 
but form groups apart, dancing to the same instrument and 
song. 

They have a great passion for play, and a variety of games. 
To such a pitch of excitement are they sometimes roused, that 
they gamble away everything they possess, even to their wives 
and children. They are notorious thieves, also, and proud of 
their dexterity. He who is frequently successful, gains much 
applause and popularity ; but the clumsy thief, who is detected 
in some bungling attempt, is scoffed at and despised, and 
sometimes severely punished. 

Such are a few leading characteristics of the natives in the 
neighborhood of Astoria. They appear to us inferior in many 
respects to the tribes east of the mountains, the bold rovers of 
the prairies ; and to i^artake much of the Esquimaux character ; 
elevated in some degree by a more genial chmate, and more 
varied style of living. 

The habits of traffic engendered at the cataracts of the 
Columbia, have had their influence along the coast. The Chi- 
nooks and other Indians at the mouth of the river, soon proved 
themselves keen traders, and in their early dealings with the 
Astorians, never hesitated to ask three times what they con- 
sidered the real value of an article. They were inquisitive, 
also, in the extreme, and impertinently intrusive; and were 
prone to indulge in scoffing and ridicule, at the expense of the 
strangers. 

In one thing, however, they showed superior judgment and 
self-command to most of their race; this was, in their ab- 
stinence from ardent spirits, and the abhorrence and disgust 
with which they regarded a drunkard. On one occasion, a 
son of Comcomly had been induced to drink freely at the fac- 
tory, and went home in a state of intoxication, playing aU 
kinds of mad pranks, until he sank into a stupor, in which 
he remained for two days. The old chieftain repaired to his 
friend M'Dougal, with indignation flaming in his countenance, 
and bitterly reproached him for having permitted his son to 
degrade himself into a beast, and to render himself an object 
of scorn and laughter to his slave. 



ASTORIA. 201 



CHAPTER XLI. 

As the spring opened, the Httle settlement of Astoria was in 
agitation, and prepared to send forth various expeditions. 
Several important things were to be done. It was necessary 
to send a supply of goods to the trading i)ost of Mr, David 
Stuart, estabhshed in the preceding autumn on the Oakinagan. 
The cache, or secret deposit, made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron 
Linn, was likewise to be visited, and the merchandise and 
other effects left there, to be brought to Astoria. A third 
object of moment was to send dispatches overland to Mr. Astor 
at New York, informing him of the state of affairs at the settle- 
ment, and the fortunes of the several expeditions. 

The task of carrying supplies to Oakinagan was assigned to 
Mr. Robert Stuart, a spirited and enterprising young man, 
nephew to the one who had established the jjost. The cache 
was to be sought out by two of the clerks, named RusseU 
Farnham and Donald M'Gilles, conducted by a guide, and 
accompanied by eight men, to assist in bringing home the 
goods. 

As to the dispatches, they were confided to Mr. John Reed, 
the clerk, the same who had conducted one of the exploring 
detachments of Snake River. He was now to trace back his 
way across the mountains by the same route by which he had 
come, with no other companions or escort than Ben Jones, the 
Kentucky hunter, and two Canadians. As it was still hoped 
that Mr. Crooks might be in existence, and that Mr. Reed and 
Ms party might meet with him in the course of their route, 
they were charged with a small supply of goods and provisions, 
to aid that gentleman on his way to Astoria. 

When the expedition of Reed was made known, Mr. M'Lellan 
announced his determination to accom]jany it. He had long 
been dissatisfied with the smallness of his interest in the co- 
partnership, and had requested an additional number of 
shares; his request not being complied with, he resolved to 
abandon the country. M'Lellan was a man of sinp,T>-la.rly self- 
willed and decided character, with whom persuasion was 
useless; he was permitted, therefore, to take his own course 
without opposition. 



262 ASTORIA. 

As to Eeed, he set about preparing for his hazardous journey 
with the zeal of a true Irishman. He had a tin case made, in 
which the letters and papers addressed to Mr. Astor were care- 
fully soldered up. This case he intended to strap upon his 
shoulders, so as to bear it about with him, sleeping and wak- 
ing, in all changes and chances, by land or by water, and never 
to part with it but with his life ! 

As the route of these several parties would be the same for 
nearly four hundred miles up the Columbia, and within that 
distance would lie through the piratical pass of the rapids, and 
among the freebooting tribes of the river, it was thought ad- 
visable to start about the same tune, and to keep together. 
Accordingly, on the 22d of March they all set off, to the num- 
ber of seventeen men, in two canoes— and here we cannot but 
pause to notice the hardihood of these several expeditions, so 
insignificant in point of force, and severally destined to 
traverse immense wildernesses, where larger parties had ex- 
perienced so much danger and distress. When recruits were 
sought in the preceding year among experienced hunters and 
voyageurs at Montreal and St. Louis, it was considered dan- 
gerous to attempt to cross the Eocky Mountains with lets than 
sixty men ; and yet here we find Eeed ready to push his v^ay 
across those barriers with merely three companions. Such is 
the fearlessness, the insensibility to danger, which men acquire 
by the habitude of constant risk. The mind, like the body, 
becomes callous by exposure. 

The little associated band proceeded up the river, under the 
command of Mr. Eobert Stuart, and arrived early in the 
month of April at the Long Narrows, that notorious plunder- 
ing place. Here it was necessary to unload the canoes, and to 
transport both them and their cargoes to the head of the Nar- 
rows by land. Their party was too few in number for the pur- 
pose. They were obliged, therefore, to seek the assistance of 
the Cathlasco Indians, who undertook to carry the goods en 
their horses. Forward then they set, the Indians with Ihcii* 
horses well freighted, and the first load convoyed by Eeed caiu 
five men, well armed ; the gallant Irishman striding along at 
the head, with his tin case of dispatches glittering on his back. 
In passing, however, through a rocky and intricate defile, some 
of the freebooting vagrants turned their horses up a narrow 
path and galloped off, carrying with them two bales of goods 
and a number of small articles. To follow them was useless; 
indeed, it was with much ado that the convoy got into port 
with the roGiduc of the caro;oeR ; for somo of Hie ri'uards wei ^ 



ASTORIA. 26g 

piliaged of their knives and pocket-handkerchiefs, and the 
lustrous tin case of Mr. John Reed was in imminent jeopardy. 

Mr. Stuart heard of these depredations, and hastened for- 
ward to the rehef of the convoy, but could not reach them 
before dusk, by which time they had arrived at the village of 
Wish-ram, already noted for its great fishery, and the knavish 
propensities of its inhabitants. Here they found themselves 
benighted in a strange place, and surrounded by savages bent 
on pilfering, if not upon open robbery. Not knowing what 
active course to take, they remained under arms ail night 
without closing an eye, and at the very first peep of dawn, 
when objects were yet scarce visible, everything was hastily 
embarked, and, without seeking to recover the stolen effects, 
they pushed off from shore; " glad to bid adieu," as they said, 
" to this abominable nest of miscreants." 

The worthies of Wish- ram, however, were not disposed to 
part so easily with their visitors. Their cupidity had been 
quickened by the plunder which they had already taken, and 
their confidence increased by the impunity with which their 
outrage had passed. They resolved, therefore, to take further 
toll of the travellers, and, if possible, to capture the tin case of 
dispatches ; which shining conspicuously from afar, and being 
guarded by John Reed with such especial care, must, as they 
supposed, be " a great medicine." 

Accordingly, Mr. Stuart and his comrades had not proceeded 
far in the canoes, when they beheld the whole rabble of Wish- 
ram stringing in groups along the bank, whooping and yelling, 
and gibbering in their wild jargon, and when they landed 
belov/ the falls they were surrounded by upward of four hundred 
of these river ruffians, armed with bows and arrows, war 
clubs, and other savage weapons. These now pressed forward, 
with offers to carry the canoes and effects up the portage. Mr. 
Stuart declined forwarding the goods, alleging the lateness of 
the hour ; but, to keep them in good humor, informed them, 
that, if they conducted themselves well, their offered services 
might probably be accepted in the morning; in the meanwhile 
he suggested that they might carrj^ up the canoes. They ac- 
cordingly set off with the two canoes on their shoulders, ac- 
companied by a guard of eight men well armed. 

When arrived at the head of the falls, the mischievous spirit 
of the savages broke out, and they were on the point of de- 
stroying the canoes, doubtless with a view to impede the white 
moil from carrying forward their gcods^ and laying them open 



264 ASTORIA. 

to further pilfering. They were with some difficulty prevented 
from committing this outrage by the interference of an old 
man, who appeared to have authority among them ; and, in 
consequence of his harangue, the whole of the hostile band, 
with the exception of about fifty, crossed to the north side of 
the river, where they lay in wait, ready for further mischief. 

In the meantime, Mr. Stuart, who had remained at the foot 
of [the falls with the goods, and who knew that the proffered 
assistance of the savages was only for the pui-pose of having 
an opportunity to plunder, determined, if possible, to steal a 
march upon them, and defeat their machinations. In the dead 
of the night, therefore, about one o'clock, the moon shining 
brightly, he roused his party, and proposed that they should 
endeavor to transport the goods themselves above the falls, 
before the sleeping savages could be aware of their operations. 
All hands sprang to the Avork with zeal, and hurried it on in 
the hope of getting all over before daylight. Mr. Stuart went 
forward with the first loads, and took his station at the head 
of the portage, while Mr. Eeed and Mr. M'Lellan remained at 
the foot to forward the remainder. 

The day dawned before the transportation was completed. 
Some of the fifty Indians who had remained on the south side 
of the river, perceived what was going on, and, feeling them- 
selves too weak for an attack, gave the alarm to those on the 
opposite side, upward of a hundred of whom embarked in 
several large canoes. Two loads of goods yet remained to be 
brought uip. Mr. Stuart dispatched some of the people for one 
of the loads, with a request to Mr. Reed to retain with him as 
many men as he thought necessary to guard the remaining 
load, as he suspected hostile intentions on the part of the In- 
dians. Mr. Reed, however, refused to retain any of them, say- 
ing that M'Lellan and himself were sufficient to protect the 
small quantity that remained. The men accordingly departed 
with the load, while Reed and M'Lellan continued to mount 
guard over the residue. By this time, a number of the canoes 
had arrived from the opposite side. As they approached the 
shore, the urJucky tin box of John Reed, shining afar like the 
briUiant helmet of Euryalus, caught their eyes. No sooner did 
the canoes touch the shore, than they leaped forward on the 
rocks, set up a war-whoop, and sprang forward to secure the 
ghttering prize. Mr. M'Lellan, who wp.s at the river bank, ad- 
vanced to guard the goods, when one of the savages attempted 
to hoodwink him with his buffalo robe with one hand, and to 



ASTORIA. 26^ 

Btab him with the other. M'Lellan sprang back just far enough 
to avoid the blow, and raising his rifle, shot the rufiian through 
the heart. 

In the meantime, Reed, who with the want of forethought 
of an Irishman, had neglected to remove the leathern cover 
from the lock of his rifle, was fumbling at the fastenings, when 
he received a blow on the head with a war-club that laid him 
senseless on the ground. In a twinkling he was stripped of his 
rifle and pistols, and the tin box, the cause of all this onslaught, 
was borne off in triumph. 

At this critical juncture, Mr. Stuart, who had heard the 
war-whoop, hastened to the scene of action with Ben Jones, 
and seven others of the men. When he arrived. Reed was 
weltering in his blood, and an Indian standing over him and 
about to dispatch him with a tomahawk. Stuart gave the 
word, when Ben Jones levelled his rifle, and shot the mis- 
creant on the spot. The men then gave a cheer and charged 
upon the main body of the savages, who took to instant flight. 
Reed was now raised from the gi'ound, and borne senseless 
and bleeding to the upper end of the portage. Preparations 
were made to launch the canoes and embark all in haste, when 
it was found that they were too leaky to be put in the water, 
and that the oars had been left at the foot of the faUs. A 
scene of confusion now ensued. The Indians were whooping 
and yeUing, and running about like fiends. A panic seized 
upon the men, at being thus suddenly checked, the hearts of 
some of the Canadians died within them, and two young men 
actually fainted away. The moment they recovered their 
senses Mr. Stuart ordered that they should be deprived of 
their arms, their under-garments taken off, and that a piece 
of cloth should be tied round their waists, in imitation of a 
squaw ; an Indian punishment for cowardice. Thus equipped, 
they were stowed away among the goods in one of the canoes. 
This ludicrous affair excited the mirth of the bolder spirits, 
even in the midst of their perils, and roused the pride of the 
wavering. The Indians having crossed back again to the 
north side, order was restored, some of the hands were sent 
back for the oars, others set to work to calk and launch the 
canoes, and in a little while all were embarked and were con- 
tinuing their voyage along the southern shore. 

No sooner had they departed, than the Indians returned to 
the scone of action, bore off their two comrades, who had been 
shot, on© of whom was still livins:. and returned to their vil- 



266 ASTORIA. 

lage. Here they killed two horses ; and drank the hot blood 
to give fierceness to their courage. They painted and arrayed 
themselves hideously for battle; performed the dead dance 
round the slain, and raised the war song of vengeance. Then 
mounting their horses, to the nmnber of four hundred and 
fifty men, and brandishing their weapons, they set off along 
the northern bank of the river, to get ahead of the canoes, 
lie in wait for them, and take a terrible revenge on the white 
men. 

They succeeded in getting some distance above the canoes 
without being discovered, and were crossing the river to post 
themselves on the side along which the white men were coast- 
ing, when they were fortunately descried. Mr. Stuart and his 
companions were immediately on the alert. As they drew 
near to the place where the savages had crossed, they ob- 
served them posted among steep and overhanging rocks, 
close along which the canoes would have to pass. Finding 
that the enemy had the advantage of the ground, the whites 
stopped short when within five hundred yards of them, and 
discharged and reloaded their i^ieces. They then made a fire 
and dressed the wounds of Mr. Eeed, who had received five 
severe gashes in the head. This being done, they lashed the 
canoes together, fastened them to a rock at a small distance 
from the shore, and there awaited the menaced attack. 

They had not been long posted in this manner, when they 
saw a canoe approaching. It contained a war-chief of the 
tribe and three of his principal warriors. He drew near and 
made a long harangue, in which he informed them that they 
had killed one and wounded another of his nation ; that the 
relations of the slain cried out for vengeance, and he had 
been compelled to lead them to fight. Still he wished to 
spare unnecessary bloodshed, he proposed, therefore, that Mr. 
Reed, who, he observed, was little better than a dead man, might 
bQ given up to be sacrificed to the manes of the deceased war- 
rior. This would appease the fury of his friends; the hatchet 
would then be buried, and all ohenceforward would be friends. 
The answer was a stern refusal and a defiance, and the war- 
chief saw that the canoes were well prepared for a vigorous 
defence. He withdrew, therefore, and returning to his war- 
riors among the rocks held long deliberations. Blood for blood 
is a principle in Indian equity and Indian honor ; but though 
the inhabitants of Wish-ram were men of war, they were like- 
wise men of traffic, and it wcs suggested that honor for once 



ASTORIA. 267 

might give way to profit. A negotiation was accordingly 
opened with the wliite men, and after some diplomacy the 
matter was compromised for a blanket to cover the dead, and 
some tobacco to be smoked by the living. This being granted, 
the heroes of Wish-ram crossed the river once more, returned 
to their village to feast upon the horses whose blood they had 
so vain-gloriously drunk, and the travellers pursued their voy- 
age without further molestation. 

The tin case, however, containing the important dispatches 
for New York, was irretrievably lost; the very precaution 
taken by the worthy Hibernian to secure his missives, had, by 
rendering them conspicuous, produced their robbery. The ob- 
ject of his overland journey, therefore, being defeated, he gave 
up the expedition. The whole party repaired with Mr. Robert 
Stuart to the establishment of Mr. David Stuart, on the Oaki- 
nagan River. After remaining here two or three days they all 
set out on their return to Astoria, accompanied by Mr. David 
Stuart. This gentleman had a large quantity of beaver skins 
at his establishment, but did not think it prudent to take them 
with him, fearing the levy of " black mail " at the falls. 

On their way down, when below the forks of the Columbia, 
they were hailed one day from the shore in English. Looking 
around, they descried two wretched men, entirely naked. 
They pulled to shore ; the men came up and made themselves 
known. They proved to be Mr. Crooks and his faithful fol- 
lower, John Day. 

The reader will recollect that Mr. Crooks, with Day and four 
Canadians, had been so reduced by famine and fatigue, that 
Mr. Hunt was obliged to leave them, in the month of Decem- 
ber, on the banks of the Snake River. Their situation was the 
more critical, as they were in the neighborhood of a band of 
Shoshonies, whose horses had been forcibly seized by Mr, 
Hunt's party for provisions. Mr. Crooks remained here 
twenty days, detained by the extremely reduced state of John 
Day, who was utterly unable to travel, and whom he would 
not abandon, as Day had been in his employ on the Missouri, 
and had a-lways proved himself most faithful. Fortunately 
the Shoshonies did not offer to molest them. They had never 
before seen white men, and seemed to entertain some supersti- 
tions with regard to them, for, though they would encamp near 
them in the day time, they would move off with their tents in 
the night ; and finally disappeared, without taking leave. 

When Day was sufficiently recovered to travel, they kept 



268 ASIOBIA. 

feebly on, sustaining themselves as well as they could, until in 
the month of February, when three of the Canadians, fearful 
of perishing with want, left Mr. Crooks on a small river, on the 
road by which Mr. Hunt had passed in quest of Indians. Mr. 
Crooks followed Mr. Hunt's track in the snow for several days, 
sleeping as usual in the open air, and suffering all kinds of 
hardships. At length, coming to a low prairie, he lost every 
appearance of the "trail," and wandered during the remainder 
of the winter in the mountains, subsisting sometimes on horse- 
meat, sometimes on beavers and their skins, and a part of the 
time on roots. 

About the last of March, the other Canadian gave out, and 
Was left with a lodge of Shoshonies ; but Mr. Crooks and John 
Day still kept on, and finding the snow sufficiently diminished, 
undertook, from Indian information, to cross the last moun- 
tain ridge. They happily succeeded, and afterward fell in with 
the Wallah- Wallahs, a tribe of Indians inhabiting the banks of 
a river of the same name, and reputed as being frank, hospita- 
ble, and sincere. They proved worthy of the character, for 
they received the poor wanderers kindly, killed a horse for 
them to eat, and directed them on their way to the Columbia. 
They struck the river about the middle of April, and advanced 
down it one hundred miles, until they came within about 
twenty miles of the falls. 

Here they met with some of the "chivalry" of that noted 
pass, who received them in a friendly way, and set food before 
them; but, while they were satisfying their hunger, perfid- 
iously seized their rifles. They then stripped them naked, and 
drove them off, refusing the entreaties of Mr. Crooks for a flint 
and steel of which they had robbed him ; and threatening his 
life if he did not instantly depart. 

In this forlorn plight, still worse off than before, they re- 
newed their wanderings. They now sought to find their w^ay 
back to the hospitable Wallah- Wallahs, and had advanced 
eighty miles along the river, when fortunately, on the very 
morning that they were going to leave the Columbia, and 
strike inland, the canoes of Mr. Stuart hove in sight. 

It is needless to describe the joy of these poor men at once 
more finding themselves among countrymen and friends, or of 
the honest and hearty welcome with which they were received 
by their fellow adventurers. The whole party now continued 
down the river, passed all the dangerous places without inter- 
ruption, and arrived safely at Astoria on the 11th of May. 



ASTORIA. 269 



CHAPTER XLII. 

Having traced the fortunes of the two expeditions by sea 
and land to the mouth of the Cohimbia, and presented a view 
of affairs at Astoria, we will return for a moment to the master- 
spirit of the enterprise who regulated the springs of Astoria, at 
his residence in New York. 

It will be remembered tiiat a part of the plan of Mr. Astor 
was to furnish the Russian fur establishment on the north-west 
coast with regular supplies, so as to render it independent of 
those casual vessels which cut up the trade and supplied the 
natives vv^ith arms. This plan had been comitenanced by our 
own government, and likewise by Count Pahlem, the Russian 
Minister at Washington. As its view 3, however, were impor- 
tant and extensive, and might eventually affect a wide course 
of commerce, Mr. Astor was desirous of establishing a complete 
arrangement on the subject with the Russian American Fur 
Company, under the sanction of the Russian Government. 
For this purpose, in March, 1811, he dispatched a. confidential 
agent to St. Petersburgh, fully empowered to enter mto the 
requisite negotiations. A passage was given to this genxleman 
by the government of the United States, in the John Adams, 
one of its armed vessels, bound to a European port. 

The next step of Mr. Astor was, to dispatch the annual ship 
contemplated in his genera,l plan. He had as yet heard nothmg 
of the success of the previous expeditions, and had to proceed 
upon the presumption that everything had been effected ac- 
cording to his instructions. He accordingly fitted out a fine 
ship of four hundred and ninety tons, called the Beaver, and 
freighted her with a valuable cargo, destined for the factory, 
at the mouth of the Columbia, the trade along the coast, and 
the supply of the Russian establishment. In this ship em- 
barked a reinforcement, consisting of a partner, five clerks, 
fifteen American laborers, and six Canadian voyageurs. In 
choosing his agents for his first expedition, Mr. Astor had been 
obliged to have recourse to British subjects experienced in the 
Canadian fur trade ; henceforth it was his intention, as much 
as possible, to select Americans, so as to secure an ascendency 
of American influence in the management of the company, and 
to make it decidedly national. 



270 ASTORIA. 

Accordingly, Mr. John Clarke, the partner, who took the 
lead in the present expedition, was a native of the United 
ttates, though he had passed much of his life in the north-west, 
-saving been employed in the fur trade since the age of sixteen. 
Most of the clerks were young gentlemen of good connections 
in the American cities, some of whom embarked in the hope of 
gain, others through the mere spirit of adventure incident to 
youth. 

The instructions given by Mr. Astor to Captain Sowle, the 
commander of the Beaver, were, in some respects, hypotheti- 
cal, in consequence of the uncertainty resting upon the previ- 
ous steps of the enterprise. 

He was to touch at the Sandwich Islands, inquire about the 
fortunes of the Tonquin, and whether an establishment had 
been formed at the mouth of the Columbia. If so, he was to 
take as many Sandwich Islanders as his ship would accommo- 
date, and proceed hither. On arriving at the river, he was to 
observe great caution, for even if an estabhshment should have 
been formed, it might ha\^e fallen into hostile hands. He was, 
therefore, to put in as if by casualty or distress, to give him- 
self out as a coasting trader, and to say nothing about his ship 
being owned by Mr. Astor, until he had ascertained that every- 
thing was right. In that case, he was to land such part of his 
cargo as was intended for the establishment, and to proceed to 
New Archangel with the supplies intended for the Russian post 
at that place, where he could receive peltries in payment. 
With these he was to return to Astoria; take in the furs col- 
lected there, and, having completed his cargo by trading along 
the coast, was to proceed to Canton. The captain received the 
same injunctions that had been given to Captain Thorn of the 
Tonquin, of great caution and circumspection in his inter- 
course with the natives, and that he should not permit more 
than one or two to be on board at a time. 

The Beaver sailed from New York on the 10th of October, 
1811, and reached the Sandwich Islands without any occur- 
rence of moment. Here a rumor was heard of the disastrous 
fate of the Tonquin. Deep solicitude was felt by every one on 
board for the fate of both expeditions, by sea and land. Doubts 
were entertained whether any establishment had been formed 
at the mouth of the Columbia, or whether any of the company 
would be found there. After much deliberation, the captain 
took twelve Sandwich Islanders en board, for the service of 



ASTORIA. 271 

the factory, should there be one in existence, and proceeded 
on his voyage. 

On the 6th of May he arrived off the mouth of the Cokmi- 
bia, and running as near as possible, fired two signal-guns. No 
answer was returned, nor was there any signal to be descried. 
Night coming on, the ship stood out to sea, and every heart 
drooped as the land faded away. On the following morning 
they again ran in within four miles of the shore, and fired 
other signal-guns, but still without reply. A boat was then 
dispatched, to sound the channel, and attempt an entrance; 
but returned without success, there being a tremendous swell, 
and breakers. Signal-guns were fired again in the evening, 
but equally in vain, and once more the sliip stood off to sea for 
the night. The captain now gave up ah hope of finding any 
establishment at the place, and indulged in the most gloomy 
apprehensions. He feared his predecessors had been massacred 
before they had reached their place of destination ; or if they 
should have erected a factory, that it had been surj)rised and 
destroyed by the natives. 

In this moment of doubt and uncertainty, Mr. Clarke an- 
nounced his determination, in case of the worst, to found an 
establishment with the present party, and aU hands bravely 
engaged to stand by him in the undertaking. The next morn- 
ing the ship stood in for the third time, and fired three signal- 
guns, but with little hope of reply. To the great joy of the 
crew, three distinct gims were heard in answer. The appre- 
hensions of all but Captain Sowle were now at rest. That cau- 
tious commander recollected the instructions given him by 
Mr. Astor, and determined to proceed with great circumspec- 
tion. He was well aware of Indian treachery and cunning. It 
was not impossible, he observed, that these cannon might have 
been fired by the savages themselves. They might have sur- 
prised the fort, massacred its inmates ; and these signal-guns 
might only be decoys to lure him across the bar, that they 
might have a chance of cutting him off, and seizing his 
vessel. 

At length a white flag was descried hoisted as a signal on 
Cape Disappointment. The passengers pointed to it in tri- 
umph, but the captain did not yet dismiss liis doubts. A bea- 
con tire blazed through the night on the same place, but the 
captain observed that all these signals might be treacherous. 

On the following morning, May 9th, the vessel came to 
anchor off Cape Disappointment, outside of the bar. Toward 



272 ASTORIA. 

noon an Indian canoe was seen making for the ship and all 
hands were ordered to be on the alert. A few moments after- 
ward, a barge was perceived following the canoe. The hopes 
and fears of those on board of the ship were in tumultuous 
agitation, as the boat drew nigh that was to let them know the 
fortunes of the enterprise, and the fate of their predecessors. 
The viaptain, who was haunted with the idea of possible treach- 
ery, did not suffer his curiosity to get the better of his caution, 
but ordered a party of his men under arms, to receive the visit- 
ors. The canoe came first alongside, in which were Comcomly 
and six Indians; in the barge were M'Dougal, M'Lellan, and 
eight Canadians. A little conversation with tliese gentlemen 
dispelled all the captain's fears, and the Bea,ver crossing the 
bar under their pilotage, anchored safely in Baker's Bay. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 



The arrival of the Beaver with a reinforcement and sup- 
plies, gave new life and vigor to affairs at Astoria. These 
were means for extending the operations of the establish- 
ment, and founding interior trading posts. Two parties were 
immediately set on foot to proceed severally under the com- 
mand of Messrs. M'Kenzie and Clarke, and establish posts 
above the forks of the Columbia, at points where most rivalry 
and opposition were apprehended from the North-west Com- 
pany. 

A third party, headed by Mr. David Stuart, was to repair 
with supphes to the post of that gentleman on the Oakina- 
gan. In addition to these expeditions a fourth was necessary 
to convey dispatches to Mr. Astor, at New York, in place of 
those unfortunately lost by John Reed. The safe conveyance 
of these dispatches was highly important, as by them Mr. 
Astor v^ould receive an account of the state of the factory, 
aud regulate his reinforcements and supplies accordingly. 
The mission was one of peril and hardship, and required a 
man of nerve and vigor. It was confided to Robert Stuart, 
who, though he had never been across the mountains, and a 
very young man, had given proofs of his competency to the 
task. Four trusty and well-tried men, who had come ovcr-= 



ASTORIA. 273 

land in Mr. Hunt's expedition, were given as his guides and 
hunters. These were Ben Jones and John Day, the Kentuck- 
ians, and Andri Vallar and Francis Le Clerc, Canadians. 
Mr. M'Lellan again expressed his determination to take this 
opportunity of returning to the Atlantic States. In this he 
was joined by Mr. Crooks, who, notwithstanding all that he 
had suffered in the dismal journey of tlie preceding winter, 
w^as ready to retrace his steps and brave every danger and 
hardship, rather than remain at Astoria. This httle handful 
of adventurous men we propose to accompany in its long 
and perilous peregrinations. 

The several parties we have mentioned all set off in company 
on the 29th of Juuie, under a salute of cannon from the fort. 
They were to keep together, for mutual protection, through 
the piratical passes of the river, and to separate, on their dif- 
ferent destinations, at the forks of the Columbia. Their num- 
ber, collectively, was nearly sixty, consisting of partners and 
clerks, Canadian voyageurs. Sandwich Islanders, and Ameri- 
can hunters; and they embarked in two barges and ten 
canoes. 

They had scarcelj^ got under way, when John Day, the Ken- 
tucky hunter, became restless and uneasy, and extremely 
wayv/ard in his deportment. This caused surprise, for in 
general, he was remarkable for his cheerful, manly deport- 
ment. It was supposed that the recollection of past sufferings 
might harass his mind in undertaking to retrace the scenes 
where they had been experienced. As the expedition ad- 
vanced, however, his agitation increased. He began to talk 
wildly and incoherently, and to show manifest symptoms of 
derangement. 

Mr. Crooks now informed his companions that in his desolate 
wanderings through the Snake River country during the pre- 
ceding winter, in which he had been accompanied by John 
Day, the poor fellow's wits had been partially unsettled by 
the sufferings and horrors through which they had passed, and 
he doubted whether they had ever been restored to perfect 
sanity. It was still hoped that this agitation of spirit might 
pass away as they proceeded; but, on the contrary, it grew 
more and more violent. His comrades endeavored to divert 
his mind and to drav/ him into rational conversation, but he 
only became the more exasperated, uttering vdld and inco- 
herent ra.vings. The sight of any of the natives put him in an 
absolute fury, and he would heap on them the most opprobri- 



274 ASTORIA. 

ous epithets; recollecting, no doubt, what he had suffered 
from Indian robbers. 

On the evening of the 2d of July he became absolutely fran- 
tic, and attempted to destroy himself. Being disarmed, he 
sank into quietude, and professed the greatest remorse for the 
crime he had meditated. He then pretended to sleep, and hav- 
ing thus lulled suspicion, suddenly sprang up, just before day- 
light, seized a pair of loaded pistols, and endeavored to blow 
out his brains. In his hurry he fired too high, and the balls 
passed over his head. He was instantly secured and placed 
Mnder a guard in one of the boats. How to dispose of him was 
now the question, as it was impossible to keep him with the 
expedition. Fortunately Mr. Stuart met with some Indians 
accustomed to trade with Astoria. These undertook to con- 
duct John Day back to the factory, and deliver him there in 
safety. It was vfith the utmost concern that his comrades 
saw the poor fellow depart ; for, independent of his invaluable 
services as a first-rate hunter, his frank and loyal qualities had 
made him a universal favorite. It may be as well to add that 
the Indians executed their task faithfully, and landed John 
Day among his friends at Astoria; but his constitution was 
completely broken by the hardships he had undergone, and he 
died within a year. 

On the evening of the 6th of July the party arrived at the 
"Diratical pass of the river, and encamped at the foot of the 
first rapid. The next day, before the commencement of the 
portage, the greatest precautions were taken to guard against 
lurking treachery, or open attack. The weapons of every man 
were put in order, and his cartridge-box replenished. Each 
one wore a kind of surcoat made of the skin of the elk, reach- 
ing from his neck to his knees, and answering the purpose of a 
shirt of mail, for it was arrow proof, and it could even resist a 
musket ball at the distance of ninety yards. Thus armed and 
equipped, they posted their forces in military style. Five of 
the officers took their stations at each end of the portage, 
which was between three and four miles in length ; a number 
of men mounted guard at short distances along the heights 
immediately overlooking the riv^er, while the residue, thus 
protected from surprise, employed themselves below in drag- 
ging up the barges and canoes, and carrying up the goods 
along the narrow margin of the rapids. ¥/ith these precau- 
tions they all passed unmolested. The only accident that hap- 
pened was the upsetting of one of the canoes, by which some 



ASTORIA. 275 

of the goods sunk, and others floated down the stream. The 
alertness and rapacity of the hordes which infest these rapids, 
were immediately apparent. They pounced upon the floating- 
merchandise with the keenness of regular wreckers. A bale 
of goods which landed upon one of the islands was immediately 
ripped open, one half of its contents divided among the cap- 
tives, and the other half secreted in a lonely hut in a deep 
ravine. Mr. Eobert Stuart, however, set out in a canoe with 
Ave men and an interpreter, ferreted out the wreckers in their 
retreat, and succeeded in wresting from them their booty. 

Similar precautions to those already mentioned, and to a still 
greater extent, were observed in passing the long narrows, and 
the falls, where they would be exposed to the depredations of 
the chivalry of Wish-ram, and its freebooting neighborhood. 
In fact, they had scarcely set their first watch one night, when 
an alarm of "Indians!" was given. "To arms!" was the cry, 
and every man was at his post in an instant. The alarm was 
explained ; a war party of Shoshonies had surprised a canoe of 
the natives just below the encampment, had murdered four 
men and two women, and it was apprehended they would 
attack the camp. The boats and canoes were immediately 
hauled up, a breastwork was made of them, and the packages, 
forming three sides of a square, with the river in the rear, and 
thus the party remained fortified throughout the night. 

The dawn, however, dispelled the alarm; the portage was 
conducted in peace; the vagabond warriors of the vicinity 
hovered about them whfle at work, but were kept at a wary 
distance. They regarded the loads of merchandise with wist- 
ful eyes, but seeing the ' ' long-beards" so formidable in num- 
ber, and so well prepared for action, they made no attempt, 
either by open force or sly pilfering to collect their usual toll, 
but maintained a peaceful demeanor, and were afterward re- 
Weirded for their good conduct with presents of tobacco. 

Fifteen days were consumed in ascending from the foot of 
the first rapid, to the head of the falls, a distance of about 
eighty miles, but full of all kinds of obstructions. Having 
happily accomplished these diflicult porcag^a, the party, on 
the 19th of Jul}^, arrived at a smoother pavt of the river, and 
pursued their way up the stream with greater speed and 
facility. 

They were now in the neighborhood where Mr. Crooks and 
John Day bad been so perfidiously robbed and stripped a few 
months previously, wl^en cunfiding in the proflered hospitahty 



276 ASTOllIA. 

of a ruffian band. On landing at nigiit, therefore, a vigilant 
guard was maintained about the camp. On the following 
morning a number of Indians made their appearance, and 
came prov/ling round the party while at breakfast. To his 
great delight Mr. Crooks recognized among them tw^o of the 
miscreants bj whom he had been robbed. They were instantly 
seized, bound hand and foot, and thrown into one of the canoes. 
Here they lay in doleful fright, expecting summary execution. 
Mr. Crooks, however, was not of a revengeful disposition, and 
agreed to release the culprits as soon as the pillaged property 
should be restored. Several savages immediately started off 
in different directions, and before night the rifles of Crooks 
and Day were produced ; several of the smaller articles pilfered 
from them, however, could not be recovered. 

The bands of the culprits were then removed, and they lost 
no time in taking their departure, still under the influence of 
abject terror, and scarcely crediting their senses that they had 
escaped the merited punishment of their offences. 

The country on each side of the river now began to assume a 
different character. The hills, and cliffs, and forests disap- 
peared; vast sandy plains, scantily clothed here and there 
with short tufts of grass, parched by the summer sun, stretched 
far away to the north and south. The river was occasionally 
obstructed with rocks and rapids, but often there were smooth, 
placid intervals, where the current was gentle, and the boat- 
men were enabled to lighten their labors with the assistance of 
the sail. 

The natives in this part of the river resided entirely on the 
northern side. They were hunters, as well as fishermen, and 
had horses in plenty. Some of these were purchased by the 
party, as provisions, and killed on the spot, though they occa- 
sionally found a difficulty in procuring fuel wherewith to cook 
them. One of the greatest dangers that beset the travellers m 
this part of their expedition, was the vast number of rattle- 
snakes which infested the rocks about the rapids and portages, 
and on which the men were in danger of treading. They were 
often found, too, in quantities about the encampments. In one 
place a nest of them lay coiled together, basking in the sun. 
Several guns loaded with shot were discharged at them, and 
thirty-seven killed and wounded. To prevent any unwelcome 
visits from them in the night, tobacco was occasionally strewed 
around the tents, a weed for which they have a very proper 
abhorrence. 



ASTORIA. 977 

On the 28th of July, the travellers arrived at the mouth of 
the Wallah-Wallah, a bright, clear stream, about six feet deep 
and fifty-five yards wide, which flows rapidly over a bed of 
sand and gravel, and throws itself into the Columbia, a few 
miles below Lewis River. Here the combined i^arties that had 
thus far voyaged together w^ere to separate, each for its partic- 
ular destination. 

On the bPouks of the Wallah-Wallah lived the hospitable 
tribe of the same name who had succored Mr. Crooks and John 
Day in the time of their extremity. No sooner did they hear 
of the arrival of the party, than they hastened to greet them. 
They built a great bonfire on the bank of the river, before the 
cam]), and men and women danced round it to the cadence of 
their songs, in which they sang the praises of the white men, 
and welcomed them to their country. 

On the following day a traffic was commenced, to procure 
horses for such of the party as intended to proceed by land. 
The Wallah-Wallahs are an equestrian tribe. The equipments 
of their horses were rude and inconvenient. High saddles, 
roughly made of deer skin, stuffed with hair, which chafe the 
horse's back, and leave it raw ; wooden stirrups with a thong 
of raw hide wrapped round them ; and for bridles they have 
cords of twisted horse-hair, which they tie round the under 
jaw. They are, like most Indians, bold but hard riders, and 
when on horseback gallop about the most dangerous places, 
without fear for themselves, or pity for their steeds. 

From these people Mr. Stuart purchased twenty horses for 
his party ; some for the saddle, and others to transport the bag- 
gage. He was fortunate in procuring a noble animal for his 
own use, which v/as praised by the Indians for its great speed 
and bottom, and a high price set upon it. No people under- 
stand better the value of a horse than these equestrian tribes ; 
and nowhere is speed a greater requisite, as they frequently 
engage in the chase of the antelope, one of the fleetest of ani- 
mals. Even after the Indian who sold this boasted horse to 
Mr. Stuart had concluded his bargain, he lingered about the 
animal, seeming loth to part from him, and to be sorry for 
what he had done. 

A day or two were employed by Mr. Stuart in arranging 
packages and pack-saddles, and making other preparations for 
his long and arduous journey. His party, by the loss of John 
Day, was now reduced to six, a small number for such an 
expedition. They were young men, however, full of courage. 



273 ASTORTA. 

health, and good spirits, and stimul?.ted, rather than appalled 
by danger. 

On the morning of the 31st of July, all preparations being 
concluded, Mr. Stuart and his little band mounted their steeds 
and took a farewell of their fellow-travellers, who gave them 
three hearty cheers as they set out on their dangerous journey. 
The course they took was to the south-east, toward the fated 
region of the Snake Eiver. At an immense distance rose a 
chain of craggy mountains which they would have to traverse ; 
they were the same among which the travellers had experi- 
enced such sufferings from cold during the preceding winter, 
and from their azure tints, when seen at a distance, had re- 
ceived the name of the Blue Mountains. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 



In retracing the route which had proved so disastrous to Mr. 
Hunt's party during the preceding winter, Mr. Stuart had 
trusted, in the present more favorable season, to find easy trav- 
elling and abundant supplies. On these great wastes and 
wilds, however, each season has its peculiar hardships. The 
travellers had not proceeded far, before they found themselves 
among naked and arid hills, with a soil composed of sand and 
clay, baked and brittle, that to all appearance had never been 
visited by the dews of heaven. 

Not a spring, or pool, or running stream was to be seen ; the 
sunburnt country was seamed and cut up by dry ravines, the 
beds of winter torrents serving only to balk the hopes of man 
and beast, with the sight of dusty channels where water had 
once poured along in floods. 

For a long summer day they continued onward without 
halting ; a burning sky above their heads, a parched desert be 
neath their feet, with just wind enough to raise the light sand 
from the knolls, and envelop them in stifling clouds. The suf- 
ferings from thirst became intense; a fine young dog, their 
only companion of the kind, gave out, and expired. Evening 
drew on without any prospect of relief, and they were almost 
reduced to despair, when Ihey descried something that looked 
like a fringe of forest along the horizon. All were inspired 



ASTORIA. ^9 

'vvith new liope, for ^uby knew that on these arid wastes, in t2i8 
neighborhood of trees^ there is aJwavs w«^e^, 

They now quickened their pace ; the horses seemed to un- 
derstand their motives, and to partake of their anticipa- 
tions ; for, though before ahnost ready to give out, they now 
required neither whip nor spur. With all their exertions it 
was late in the night before they drew near to the trees. As 
they approached, tiiey heard with transport, the ripphng of a 
shallow stream. No sooner did the refreshing sound reach the 
ears of the horses, than the poor animals snuffed the air, 
rushed forward with ungovernable eagerness, and plunging 
their muzzles into the water, drank until they seemed in dan- 
ger of bursting. Their riders had but httle more discretion, 
p.nd required repeated draughts to quench their excessive 
thirst. Their weary march that day had been forty-five miles, 
over a track that might rival the deserts of Africa for aridity. 
Indeed, the sufferings of the traveller on these American 
deserts is frequently more severe than in the wastes of Africa 
or Asia, from being less habituated and prepared to cope with 
them. 

On the banks of this blessed stream the travellers encamped 
for the night; and so great had been their fatigue, and so 
sound and sweet was their sleep, that it was a late hour the 
next morning before they awoke. They now recognized the 
httle river to be the Umatalla, the same on the banks of which 
Mr. Hunt and his followers had arrived after their painful 
struggle through the Blue Mountains, and experienced such a 
kind relief in the friendly camp of the Sciatogas. 

That range of Blue Mountains now extended in the distance 
before them ; they were the same among which poor Michael 
Carriere had perished. They form the south-easb boundary of 
the great plains along the Columbia, dividing the waters of its 
main stream from those of Lewis River. They are, in fact, a 
part of a long chain, which stretches over a gTeat extent of 
country, and includes in its links the Snake Eiver Mountains. 

The day was somev^^hat advanced before the travellers loft 
the shady banks of the Umatalla. Their route gradually toolv 
Uiem among the Blue Mountains, which assumed the most 
rugged aspect on a near approach. They were shagged v\dth 
dense and gloomy forests, and cut up by deep and precipitous 
ravines, extremely toilsome to the horses. Sometimes the 
travellers had to follow the course of some brawlmg stream, 
with a broken, rocky bed, which the shouldering cliffs and 



280 ASTORIA. 

promontories on either side obliged them frequently to cross 
and recross. For some miles they struggled forward througli 
these savage and darkly wooded defiles, when all at once the 
whole landscape changed, as if by magic. The rude moun- 
tains and rugged ravines softened into beautiful hills, and in- 
tervening meadows, with rivulets winding through fresh herb- 
age, and sparkling and murmuring over gravelly beds, the 
whole forming a verdant and pastoral scene, which derived 
additional charms from being locked up in the bosom of such 
a hard-hearted region. 

Emerging from the chain of Blue Mountains, they descended 
upon a vast plain, almost a dea,d level, sixty miles in circum- 
ference, of excellent soil, with fine streams meandering through 
it in every direction, their courses marked out in the wide 
landscape by serpentine lines of cotton- wood trees, and v/il- 
lows, which fringed their banks, and afforded sustenance to 
great numbers of beavers and otters. 

In traversing this plain, they passed, close to the skirts of 
the liills, a great pool of wa.ter, three hundred yards in circum- 
ference, fed by a sulphur spring, about ten feet in diameter, 
boihng up in one corner. The vapor from this pool was ex- 
tremely noisome, a.nd tainted the air for a considerable dis- 
tance. The place was much frequented by elk, which were 
found in considerable numbers in the adjacent mountains, and 
their horns, shed in the spring time, were strewed in ever^ 
direction around the pond. 

On the 20th of August, they reached the main body of Wocd- 
ville Creek, the same stream which Mr. Hunt had ascended 
in the preceding year, shortly after his separation from Mr. 
Crooks. 

On the banks of this stream they saw a herd of nineteen an- 
telopes ; a sight so unusual in that part of the country, that at 
first they doubted the evidence of their senses. They tried by 
every means to get within a shot of them, but they were toe 
shy and fleet, and after alternately bounding to a distance, 
and then stopping to gaze with capricious curiosity at tho 
hunter, they at length scampered out of sight. 

On the 12th of August the travellers arrived on the banks of 
Snake Eiver, the scene of so many trials and mishaps to all of 
the present party excepting Mr. Stuart. They struck the river 
just above the place where it entered the mountains, through 
which Messrs. Stuart and Crooks had vainly endeavored to 
find a passage. The river was here a rapid stream, four hun 



ASTOniA. 281 

dred yo-rds in width, with high sandy hanks, and here and 
there a scanty growth of willow. Up the southern side of the 
river they now bent their course, intending to visit the caches 
made by Mr. Hunt at the Caldron Linn. 

On the second evening a solitary Snake Indian visited their 
camp, at a late hour, and informed them that there was a 
white man residing at one of the cantonments of his tribe, 
about a day's journey higher up the river. It was immedi- 
ately concluded that he must be one of the poor feUows of Mr. 
Hunt's party, who had given out, exhausted by hunger and 
fatigue, in the wretched journey of the preceding winter. All 
present, who had borne a part in the sufferings of that jour- 
ney, were eager now to press forward, and bring relief to a 
lost comrade. Early the next morning, therefore, they pushed 
forward with unusual alacrity. For two days, however, did 
they travel without being able to find any trace of such a 
straggler. 

On the evening of the second day, they arrived at a place 
where a large river came in from the east, v/hich was re- 
nowned among all the wandering hordes of the Snake nation 
for its salmon fishery, that fish being taken in incredible quan- 
tities in this neighborhood. Here, therefore, during the fish- 
ing season, the Snake Indians resort from far and near, to lay 
in their stock of salmon, which, with esculent roots, forms the 
principal food of the inhabitants of these barren regions. 

On the ba,nks of a smaU stream emptying into Snake River 
at this place, Mr. Stuart found an encampment of Shoshonies. 
He made the usual inquiry of them concerning the white man 
of whom he had received intelligence. No such person was 
dwelling among them, but they said there were white men 
residing with some of their nation on the opposite side of the 
river. This was still more animating information. Mr. 
Crooks now hoped that these might be the men of his party, 
who, disheartened by perils and hardships, had preferred to 
remain among the Indians. Others thought they might be 
Mr. Miller and the hunters who had left the main body at 
Henry's Fort, to trap among . the mountain streams. Mr. 
Stuart halted, therefore, in the neighborhood of the Shoshonie 
lodges, and sent an Indian across the river to seek out the 
white men in question, and bring them to his camp. 

The travellers passed a restless, miserable night. The place 
swarmed with myriads of mosquitoes, v/hich, with their stings 
and their music, set aU sleep at defiance. The mormnp: dawn 



282 ASTORIA. 

found them in a feverish, irritable mood, and their spleen was 
completely aroused by the return of the Indian without any 
intelligence of the white men. They now considered them- 
selves the dupes of Indian falsehoods, and resolved to put no 
more confidence in Snakes. They soon, however, forgot this 
resolution. In the course of the morning an Indian came gal- 
loping after them; Mr. Stuart waited to receive htm; no 
sooner had he come up, than, dismounting and throwing his 
arms round the neck of Mr. Stuart's horse, he began to kiss 
and caress the animal, who on his part seemed by no means 
surprised or displeased with his salutation. Mr. Stuart, who 
valued his horse highly, was somewhat annoyed by these tran- 
sports ; the cause of them was soon explained. The Snake said 
the horse had belonged to him, and been the best in his posses- 
sion, and that it had been stolen by the Wallah-W allahs. Mr. 
Stuart was by no means pleased with this recognition of his 
steed, nor disposed to admit any claim on fhe part of its 
ancient owner. In fact, it was a noble animal, admirably 
shaped, of free and generous spirit, graceful in movement, and 
fleet as an antelope. It was his intention, if possible, to take 
the horse to New York, and present him to Mr. Astor. 

In the meantime some of the party came up, and immedi- 
ately recognized in the Snake an old friend and ally. He was 
in fact one of the two guides who had conducted Mr. Hunt's 
party, in the preceding autumn, across Mad River Mountain to 
Fort Henry, and who subsequently departed with Mr. J^Iiller and 
his fellow trappers, to conduct them to a good trapping ground. 
The reader may recollect that these two trusty Snnkes were 
engaged by Mr. Hunt to return and take charge of the horses 
which the party intended to leave at Fort Henry, when they 
should embark in canoes. 

The party now crowded round the Snake, and began to ques- 
tion him with eagerness. His replies were somewhat vague, 
and but partially understood. He told a long story about the 
horses, from which it appeared that they had been stolen by 
various wandering bands, and scattered in different directions. 
The cache, too, had been plundered, and the saddles and other 
equipments carried off. His information concerning Mr. 
Miller and his comrades, was not more satisfactory. They had 
trapped for some time about the upper streams, but had fallen 
iuto the hands of a marauding party of Crows, who had robbed 
them of horses, weapons, and everything. 

Further questioning brought forth further intelligence, but 



ASTORIA. 283 

all of a disastrous kind. About ten days previously, he had 
met with three other white men, in very miserable plight, 
having one horse each, and but one rifle among them. They 
also had been plundered and maltreated by the Crows, those 
universal freebooters. The Snake endeavored to pronounce 
the names of these three men, and as far as his imperfect 
sounds could be understood, they were supposed to be three of 
the party of four hunters, viz., Carson, St. Michael, Detaye, 
and Delaunay, who were detached from Mr. Hunt s party on 
the 28th of September, to trap beaver on the head waters of the 
Columbia. 

In the course of conversation, the Indian informed them that 
the route by which Mr. Hunt had crossed the Eocky Moun- 
tains was very bad and circuitous, and that he knew one 
much shorter and easier. Mr. Stuart urged him to accompany 
them as guide, promising to reward him with a pistol Avith 
powder and ball, a knife, an awl, some blue beads, a blanket, 
and a looking-glass. Such a catalogue of riches was too tempt- 
ing to be resisted ; beside the poor Snake languished after the 
prairies ; he was tired, he said, of salmon, and longed for buf- 
falo meat, and to have a grand buffalo hunt beyond the moun- 
tains. He departed, therefore, with all speed, to get his arms 
and equipment for the journey, promising to rejoin the party 
the next day. He kept his word, and, as he no longer said 
anything to Mr. Stuart on the subject of the pet horse, they 
journeyed very harmoniously together ; though now and then, 
the Snake would regard his quondam steed with a wistful 
eye. 

They had not travelled many miles, when they came to a 
great bend in the river. Here the Snake informed them that, 
by cutting across the hills they would save many miles dis- 
tance. The route across, however, would be a good day's jour- 
ney. He advised them, therefore, to encamp here for the 
night, and set off early in the morning. They took his advice, 
though they had come but nine miles that day. 

On the following morning they rose, bright and early, to as- 
cend the hills. On mustering their little party, the guide was 
missing. They supposed him to be somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood, and proceeded to collect the horses. The vaunted 
steed of Mr. Stuart was not to be found. A suspicion flashed 
upon his mind. Search for the horse of the Snake / — he like- 
wise was gone— the tracks of two horses, one after the other, 
were found, making off from the camp. They appeared as if 



284 ASTORIA. 

one liorso had been mounted, and the other led. They were 
traced for a few miles above the camp, until they both crossed 
the river. It was plain the Snake had taken an Indian mode of 
recovering his liorse, having quietly decamped with him in 
the night. 

New vows were made never more to trust in Snakes or any 
other Indians. It was determined, also, to maintain, hereafter^ 
the strictest vigilance over their horses, dividing the night into 
three watches, and one person mounting guard at a time. 
They resolved, also, to keep along the river, instead of taking 
the short cut recommended by the fugitive Snake, whom they 
now set down for a thorough deceiver. The heat of the 
weather was oppressive, and their horses were, at times, ren-* 
dered almost frantic by the stings of the prairie flies. The 
nights wore snifocating, and it was almost impossible to sleep, 
from the swarms of mosquitoes. 

On the 20th of August they resumed their march, keeping 
along the prairie parallel to Snake Eiver. The day was sultry, 
and some of the party, being parched witli thirst, left the hue 
of march, and scrambled down the bank of the river to drink. 
The bank was overhung with wiHows, beneath which, to their 
surprise, they beheld a man fishing. No sooner did he see 
them, than he uttered an exclamation of joy. It proved to be 
John Iloback, one of their lost comrades. They had scarcely 
exchanged greetings, v/hen three other men came out from 
among the v/illows. They were Joseph Miller, Jacob Rezner, 
and Eobinson, the scalped Kentuckian, the veteran of the 
Bloody Ground. 

The reader will perhaps recollect the abrupt and wilful man- 
ner in which Mr. Miller threw up his interest as a partner of 
the company, and departed from Fort Heiirj^, in company with 
these three trappers, and a fourth, na,med Cass. He may like- 
wise recognize in Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, the trio of 
Kentucky hunters who had originally been in t'he service of 
Mr. Henry, and whom Mr. Hunt found floating down the Mis- 
souri, on their way homeward ; and prevailed upon, once more, 
to cross the mountains. The haggard looks and naked condi- 
tion of these men proved how much they had suffered. After 
leaving Mr. Hunt's party, they had made their way about two 
hundred miles to the southward, where they trapped beaver on 
a river, which, according to their account, discharged itself 
into the ocean to the south of the Columbia, but v^hich we ap- 
prehend to be Bear River, a stream emptying itself into Lake 



A8T0EIA. 285 

Bonneville, an immense body of salt water, west of the Rocky- 
Mountains. 

Having collected a considerable quantity of beaver skins, 
they made them into packs, loaded their horses, and steered 
two hundred miles due east. Here they came upon an encamp- 
ment of sixty lodges of Arapahays, an outlawed band of the 
Arapahoes, and notorious robbers. These fell upon the poor 
trappers ; robbed them of their peltries, most of their clothing, 
and several of their horses. They were glad to escape with their 
lives, and without being entirely stripped, and after proceed- 
ing about fifty miles further, made their halt for the winter. 

Early in the spring, they resumed their wayfaring, but were 
unluckily overtaken by the same ruffian horde, who levied stilj 
further contributions, and carried off the remainder of their 
horses, excepting two. With these they continued on, suffer- 
ing the greatest hardships. They still retained rifles and am- 
munition, but were in a desert country, where neither bird 
nor beast was to be found. Their only chance was to keep 
along the rivers and subsist by fishing ; but, at times, no fish 
were to be taken, and then their sufferings were horrible. One 
of their horses was stolen among the mountains by the Snak^ 
Indians; the other, they said, was carried off by Cass, who, 
according to their account, ' ' villainously left them in their ex- 
tremities." Certain dark doubts and surmises were afterward 
circulated concerning the fate of that poor fellow, which, ii 
true, showed to what a desperate state of famine his comrades. 
had been reduced. 

Being now completely unhorsed, Mr. Miller and his thre<. 
companions wandered on foot for several hundred miles, en- 
during hunger, thirst, and fatigue, while traversing the barren 
wastes which abound beyond the Rocky Mountains. At the 
time they were discovered by Mr. Stuart's party, they we^e 
almost famished, and v/ere fishing for a precarious meal. Had 
!Mr. Stuart made the short cut across the hills, avoiding this 
bend of the river, or had not some of his party accidentally 
^one down to the margin of the stream to drink, these i^oor 
wanderers might have remained undiscovered, and have per- 
ished in the wilderness. Nothing could exceed their joy on 
thus iTieeting with their old comrades, or the heartiness with 
which they were welcomed. All hands immediately encamped ; 
and the slender stores of tlie party were ransacked to furnish 
out a. suitable regale. 

The next morning tliey all set out together; Mr. Miller and 



286 ASTORIA. 

his comrades being resolved to give up the hf e of a trapper, 
and accompany Mr. Stuart back to Sto Louis. 

For several days they kept along the course of Snake Eiver, 
occasionally making short cuts across hills and promon- 
tories, where there were bends in the stream. In their way 
they passed several camps of Shoshonies, from some of whom 
they procured salmon, but in general they were too wretchedly 
poor to furnish anything. It was the wish of Mr. Stuart to 
purchase horses for the recent recruits of his party ; but the 
Indians could not be prevailed upon to part with any, alleging 
that they had not enough for their own use. 

On the 25th of August, they reached a great fishing place, to 
■which they gave the name of the Salmon Falls. Here there is 
a perpendicular fall of twenty feet on the north side of the 
river, while on the south side there is a succession of rapids. 
The salmon are taken here in incredible quantities, as they at- 
tempt to shoot the falls. It was now a favorable season, and 
there were about one hundred lodges of Shoshonies busily 
engaged killing and drying fish. The salmon begin to leap, 
shortly after sunrise. At this time the Indians swim to the 
centre of the falls, where some station themselves on rocks, 
and others stand to their waists in the water, all armed with 
spears, with which they assail the salmon as they attempt to 
leap, or fall back exhausted. It is an incessant slaughter, so 
great is the throng of the fish. 

The construction of the spears thus used is peculiar. The 
head is a straight piece of elk horn, about seven inches long ; 
on the point of which an artificial barb is made fast, with twine 
well gummed. The head is stuck on the end of the shaft, a 
very long pole of willow, to which it is likev/ise connected by 
a, strong cord, a few inches in length. When the spearsman 
makes a sure blow, he often strikes the head of the spear 
through the body of the fish. It comes off easily, and leaves 
the salmon struggling wdth the string through its body, while 
the pole is still held by the spearsman. Were it not for the 
precaution of the string, the willow shaft would be snapped by 
the struggles and the weight of the fish. Mr. Miller, in the 
course of his wanderings, had been at these falls, and had seen 
several thousand salmon taken in the course of one afternoon. 
He declared that he ha,d seen a salmon leap a distance of about 
thirty feet, from the commencement of the foam at the foot of 
the fall, completely to the top. 

Having purchased a good supply of salmon from the fisher* 



ASTORIA. 287 

men, the party resumed their journey, and on the twenty- 
ninth, arrived at the Caldron Linn ; the eventful scene of the 
preceding autumn. Here, the first thing that met their eyes, 
was a memento of the j)erplexities of that period ; the wreck of 
a canoe lodged between two ledges of rocks. They endeavored 
to get down to it, but the river banks were too high and pre- 
cipitous. 

They now proceeded to that part of the neighborhood where 
Mr. Hunt and his party had made the caches, intending to 
take from them such articles as belonged to Mr. Crooks, M'Lel- 
lan, and the Canadians. On reaching the spot, they found, to 
their astonishment, six of the caches open and rifled of their 
contents, excepting a few books which lay scattered about the 
vicinity. They had the appearance of having been plundered 
in the course of the summer. There wei'e tracks of wolves in 
every direction, to and from the holes, from which Mr. Stuart 
concluded that these animals had first been attracted to the 
place by the smell of the skins contained in the caches, which 
they had probably torn up, and that their tracks had betrayed 
the secret to the Indians. 

The three remaining caches had not been molested; they 
contained a few dry goods, some ammunition, and a number 
of beaver traps. From these Mr. Stuart took whatever v^as 
requisite for his party ; he then deposited within them all his 
superfluous baggage, and all the books and papers scattered 
around ; the holes were then carefully closed up, and all traces 
of them effaced. And here we have to record another in- 
stance of the indomitable spirit of the western trappers. No 
sooner did the trio of Kentucky hunters, Robinson, Rezner, 
and Hoback, find that they could once more be fitted out for a 
campaign of beaver-trapping, than they forgot all that they 
had suffered, and determined upon another trial of their for- 
tunes; preferring to take their chance in the wilderness, rather 
than return home ragged and penniless. As to Mr. Milier, he 
declared his curiosity and his desire of travelling through the 
Indian countries fully satisfied ; he adhered to his determina- 
tion, therefore, to keep on with the party to St. Louis, and to 
return to the bosom of civilized society. 

The three hunters, therefore, Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, 
were furnished as far as the caches and the means of Mr. 
Stuart's party afforded, with the requisite munitions and 
equipments for a ' ' two years' hunt ;" but as their fitting out 
was yet incomplete, they resolved to wait in this neighborhood 



288 ASTORIA. 

until Mr. Reed should arrive ; whose arrival might soon be ex- 
pected, as he was to set out for the caches about twenty days 
after Mr. Stuart parted with him at the Wallah- Wallali River. 

Mr. Stuart gave in charge to Robinson a letter to Mr. Reed, 
reporting Ms safe journey thus fa.r, and the state in which he 
had found the caches. A duplicate of this letter he elevated or 
a pole, and set it up near the place of deposit. 

All things being thus arranged, Mr. Stuart and his iittle 
band, now seven in number, took leave of the three hardy 
trappers, wishing them all possible success in their lonely and 
perilous sojourn in the wilderness ; and we, in like manner, 
shall leave them to their fortunes, promising to take them up 
again at some future page, and to close the story of their per- 
severing and ill-fated enterprise. 



CHAPTER XLV> 



On the 1st of September, Mr. Stuart and his companions re- 
sumed their journey, bending their course eastward, along the 
course of Snake River. As they advanced the country 
opened. The hills which had hemmed in the river receded on 
either hand, and g.reat sandy and dusty plains extended before 
them. Occasionally there were intervals of pasturage, and the 
banks of the river were fringed with willows and cotton-wood, 
so that its course might be traced from the hill-tops, winding 
imder an umbrageous covert, through a wide sunburnt land- 
scape. The soil, however, was generally poor; there was in 
eome places a miserable growth of wormwood, and a plant 
called salt-weed, resembling pennyroyal ; but the summer heat 
had parched the plains, and left but little pasturage. The 
game too had disappeared. The hunter looked in vain over 
the lifeless landscape; now and then a fev/ antelope might bo 
seen, but not within rea.ch of the rifle. Vv e forbear to follow 
the travellers in a week's wandering over these barren wastes, 
where they suffered much from hunger; having to depend 
upon a few fish from the streams, and now and then a little 
dried salmon, or a dog, procured from some forlorn lodge of 
the Shosiionies. 

Tired of these cheerless wastes, they left the banks of Snake 



ASTORIA. 



289 



River on the 7tli of September, under guidance of Mr. Miller, 
who having acquired some knowledge of the country during 
his trapping campaign, undertook to conduct them across the 
mountains by a better route than that by Fort Henry, and one 
more out of the range of the Blackfeet. He proved, however, 
but an indifferent guide, and they soon became bewildered 
among mgged hills and unknown streams, and burnt and bar- 
ren prairies. 

At length they came to a river on which Mr. Miller had 
trapped, and to which they gave his name ; though, as before 
observed, we presume it to be the same called Bear River, 
which empties itself into Lake Bonneville. Up this river and 
its branches they kept for two or three days, supporting them- 
selves precariously upon fish. They soon found that they 
were in a dangerous neighborhood. On the 12th of September, 
having encamped early, they sallied forth with their rods to 
angle for their supper. On returning, they beheld a number 
of Indians prowling about their camp, whom to their infinite 
disquiet, they soon perceived to be Upsarokas, or Crows. 
Their chief came forward with a confident au\ He was a dark 
herculean fellow, full six feet four inches in height, ^ath a 
mingled air of the ruffian and the rogue. He conducted him- 
self peaceably, however, and dispatched some of his people to 
their camp, which was somewhere in the neighborhood, from 
whence they returned with a most acceptable supply of buffalo 
meat. He now signified to Mr. Stuart that he was going to 
trade with the Snakes who reside on the west base of the 
mountains below Henry's Fort. Here they cultivate a dehcate 
kind of tobacco, much esteemed and sought after by the moun- 
tain tribes. There was something sinister, however, m the 
look of this Indian, that inspired distrust. By degrees, the 
number of his people increased, until, by midnight, there were 
twenty-one of them about the camp, who began to be impudent 
and troublesome. The greatest uneasiness was now felt for the 
safety of the horses and effects, and every one kept vigilant 
watch throughout the night. 

The morning dawned, however, without any unpleasant 
occurrence, and Mr. Stuart, having purchased aU the buffalo 
meat that the Crows had to spare, prepared to depart. His 
Indian acquaintance, however, were disposed for further deal- 
ings ; and above all, anxious for a supply of gunpow-der, for 
TThich they offered horses in exchange. Mr. Stuart declined to 
Lurnish them with the dangerous commodity. They became 



290 ASTORIA. 

more importunate in their solicitations, until they met with a 
flat refusal. 

The gigantic chief now stepped forward, assumed a swelling 
air, and slapping liimself upon the breast gave Mr. Crooks to 
understand that he was a chief of great power and importance. 
He signified further that it was customary for great chiefs 
when they met, to make each other presents. He requested, 
therefore, that Mr. Stuart would alight, and give him the horse 
upon which he was mounted. This was a noble animal, of one 
of the wild races of the prairies ; on which Mr. Stuart set great 
value ; he of course shook his head at the request of the Crow 
dignitary. Upon this the latter strode up to him, and taking 
hold of him, moved him backward and forward in his saddle, 
as if to make him feel that he was a mere child within his grasp. 
Mr. Stuart preserved his calmness and still shook his head. 
The chief then seized the bridle and gave it a jerk that startled 
the horse, and nearly brought the rider to the ground. Mr. 
Stuart instantly drew forth a pistol and presented it at the 
head of the bully-ruffian. In a twinkling, his swaggering was 
at an end, and he dodged behmd his horse to escape the ex- 
pected shot. As his subject Crows gazed on the affray from a 
nttle distance, Mr. Stuart ordered his men to level their rifles 
at them, but not to fire. The whole crew scampered among 
the bushes, and throwing themselves upon the ground, van- 
ished from sight. 

The chieftain thus left alone was confounded for an instant ; 
but recovermg Mmself, with true Indian shrewdness, burst 
into a loud laugh, and affected to turn off the whole matter as 
a piece of pleasantry. Mr. Stuart by no means relished such 
equivocal joking, but it was not his policy to get into a quar- 
rel; so he joined with the best grace he could assume, in the 
merriment of the jocular giant ; and, to console the latter for 
the refusal of the horse, made him a present of twenty charges 
of powder. They parted, according to all outward professions, 
the best friends in the world ; it was evident, however, that 
nothing but the smallness of his own force, and the martial 
array and alertness of the wliite men, had prevented the 
Crow chief from proceeding to open outrage. As it was, his 
worthy followers, in the course of their brief interview, had 
contrived to purloin a bag containing almost all the culinary 
utensils of the party. 

The travellers kept on their way due east, over a chain of 
hiUs. The recent rencontre showed them that they were now 



ASTORIA. 291 

in a land of danger, subject to tha wide roamings of a preda- 
cious tribe ; nor in fact, had they gone many miles before they 
beheld such sights calculated to inspire anxiety and alarm. 
From the summits of some of the loftiest mountains, in differ^ 
ent directions, columns of smoke began to rise. These they 
concluded to be signals made by the runners of the Crow 
chieftain to summon the stragglers of his band, so as to pur- 
sue them with greater force. Signals of this kind, made by 
outrunners from one central point, will rouse a wide circuit of 
the mountains in a wonderfully short space of time ; and bring 
the straggling hunters and warriors to the standard of their 
chieftain. 

To keep as much as possible out of the way of these free- 
booters, Mr. Stuart altered his course to the north, and, quit- 
ting the main stream of Miller's River kept up a large branch 
that came in from the mountains. Here they encamped after 
a fatiguing march of twenty-five miles. As the night drewon, 
the horses were hobbled or tethered, and tethered close to the 
camp; a vigilant watch was maintained until morning and 
every one slept with his rifle on his arm. 

At sunrise, they were again on the march, still keeping to 
the north. They soon began to ascend the mountains, and 
occasionally had wide prospects over the surroundmg country. 
Not a sign of a Crow was to be seen ; but this did not assure 
them of their security, well knowing the perseverance of these 
savages in dogging any party they intend to rob, and the 
stealthy way in which thej^ can conceal their movements, 
keeping along ravines and defiles. After a mountain scramble 
of twenty-one miles they encamped on the margin of a stream 
running to the north. 

In the evening there was an alarm of Indians and every one 
was instantly on the alert. They proved to be three miserable 
Snakes, who were no sooner informed that a band of Crows 
was prowling in the neighborhood, than they made off with 
great signs of consternation. 

A couple more of weary days and watchful nights brought 
them to a strong and rapid stream, running due north, which 
they concluded to be one of the upper branches of Snake River. 
It was probably the same since called Salt River. They deter- 
mined to bend their course down this river, as it would take 
them stiU further out of the dangerous neighborhood of the 
Crows. They then would strike upon Mr. Hunt's track of the 
preceding autumn, and retrace it across, the mountains. The 



292 ASTORIA. 

attempt to find a better route under guidance of Mr. Miller had 
cost them a large bend to the south ; in resuming Mr. Hunt's 
track, they would at least be sure of their road. They accord- 
ingly turned down along the course of this stream, and at the 
end of three days' journey, came to where it was jomed by a 
larger river, and assumed a more impetuous character, raging 
and roaring among rocks and precipices. It proved, in fact, 
to be Mad River, already noted in the expedition of Mr. Hunt. 
On the banks of this river they encamped on the 18th of Sep 
tember, at an early hour. 

Six days had now elapsed since their interview with the 
Crows ; during that time they had come nearly a hundred and 
fifty miles to the north and west, without seeing any signs of 
those marauders. They considered themselves, therefore, be- 
yond the reach of molestation, and began to relax in their vigi- 
lance, lingering occasionally for part of a day, where there was 
good pasturage. The poor horses needed repose. They had 
been urged on, by forced marches, over rugged heights, among 
rocks and fallen timber, or over low swampy valleys, inun- 
dated by the labors of the beaver. These industrious animals 
abounded in all the mountain streams, and water courses, 
wherever there were willows for their subsistence. Many of 
them they had so completely dammed up as to inundate the low 
grounds, making shallow pools or lakes, and extensive quag- 
mires ; by which the route of the travellers was often impeded. 

On the 19th of September, they rose at early dawn; some 
began to prepare breakfast, and others to arrange the packs 
preparatory to a march. The horses had been hobbled, but 
left at large to graze upon the adjacent pasture. Mr. Stuart 
was on the bank of a river, at a short distance from the camp, 
when he heard the alarm cry — "Indians! Indians! — to arms! 
to arms !" 

A mounted Crow galloped past the camp, bearing a red flag. 
He reined his steed on the summit of a neighboring knoll, and 
waved his flaring banner. A diabolical yell now broke forth 
on the opposite side of the camp, beyond where the horses were « 
grazing, and a small troop of savages came galloping up, 
whooping and making a terrific clamor. The horses took 
fright, and dashed across the camp in the direction of the 
standard-bearer, attracted by his waving flag. He instantly 
put spurs to his steed, and scoured off, followed by the panic- 
stricken herd, their flight being increased by the yells of the 
savages in their rear. 



ASTORIA. 293 

At the first alarm Mr. Stuart and his comrades had seized 
their rifles, and attempted to cut off the Indians, who were 
pursuing the horses. Their attention was instantly distracted 
by whoops and yells in an opposite direction. They now ap- 
prehended that a reserve party was about to carry off their 
baggage. They ran to secure it. The reserve party, however, 
galloped by, whooping and yelling in triumph and derision. 
The last of them proved to be their commander, the identical 
giant joker already mentioned. He was not cast in the stern 
poetical mould of fashionable Indian heroism, but on the con- 
trary, was grievously given to vulgar jocularity. As he passed 
Mr. Stuart and his companions, he checked his horse, raised 
himself in the saddle, and clapping his hand on the most in- 
sulting part of his body, uttered some jeering words, which, 
fortunately for their delicacy, they could not understand. 
The rifle of Ben Jones was levelled in an instant, and he was 
on the point of whizzing a bullet into the target so tauntingly 
displayed. "Not for your life! not for your life !" exclaimed 
Mr. Stuart, "you will bring destruction on us all !" 

It was hard to restrain honest Ben, when the mark was so 
fair and the insult so foul. "Oh, Mr. Stuart," exclaimed he, 
' ' only let me have one crack at the infernal rascal, and you 
may keep aU the pay that is due to me." 

"By heaven, if you fire," cried Mr. Stuart, "I blow your 
brains out. " 

By this time the Indian was far out of reach, and had re- 
joined his men, and the whole dare-devil band, with the cap- 
tured horses, scuttled off along the defiles, their red flag flaunt- 
ing overhead, and the rocks echoing to their whoops and yells, 
and demoniac laughter. 

The unhorsed travellers gazed after them in silent mortifica- 
tion and despair; yet Mr. Stuart could not but admire the 
style and spirit with which the whole exploit had been man- 
aged, and pronounced it one of the most daring and intrepid 
actions he had ever heard of among Indians. The whole num- 
ber of the Crows did not exceed twenty. In this way a small 
gang of lurkers will hurry off the cavalry of a large war party, 
for when once a drove of horse are seized with a panic, they 
become frantic, and nothing short of broken necks can stop 
them. 

No one was more annoyed by this unfortunate occurrence 
than Ben Jones. He declared he would actually have given his 
whole arrears of pay, amounting to upwards of a year's wages, 



294 ASTORIA. 

rather than be balked of such a capital shot. Mr. Stuart, how- 
ever, represented what might have been the consequence of 
so rash an act. Life for life is the Indian maxim. The whole 
tribe would have made common cause in avenging the death 
of a warrior. The party were but seven dismounted men, with 
a wide mountain region to traverse, infested by these people, 
and which might all be roused by signal fires. In fact, the 
conduct of the band of marauders in question, showed the 
perseverance of savages when once they have fixed their minds 
upon a project. These fellows had evidently been silently and 
secretly dogging the party for a week past, and a distance of a 
hundred and fifty miles, keeping out of sight by day, lurking 
about the encampment at night, watching aU their movements, 
and waiting for a favorable moment when they should be off 
their guard. The menace of Mr. Stuart in their first inter- 
view, to shoot the giant chief with his pistol, and the fright 
caused among the warriors by presenting the rifles, had prob- 
ably added the stimulus of pique to their usual horse-stealing 
propensities, and in this mood of mind they would doubtless 
have followed the party throughout the whole course over 
the Rocky Mountains, rather than be disappointed in their 
scheme. 



CHAPTER XLVL 



Few reverses in this changeful world are more complete and 
disheartening than that of a traveller, suddenly unhorsed, in 
the midst of the wilderness. Our unfortunate travellers con- 
templated their situation, for a time, in perfect dismay. A 
long journey over rugged mountains and immeasurable plains 
lay before them, wliich they must painfully perform on foot, 
and everything necessary for subsistence or defence must be 
carried on their shoulders. Their dismay, however, was but 
transient, and they immediately set to work, with that prompt 
elkpediency produced by the exigencies of the wilderness, to fit 
themselves for the change in their condition. 

Their first attention was to select from their baggage such 
articles as were indispensable to their journey ; to make them 
up into convenient packs, and to deposit the residue in caches. 
The whole day was consumed in these occupations ; at night 
they made a scanty meal of their remaining p:^-o visions, and 



ASTORIA. 295 

lay down to sleep with heavy hearts. In the morning, they 
were up and about at an early hour, and began to prepare their 
knapsacks for a march, while Ben Jones repaired to an old 
beaver trap which he had set in the river bank at some little 
distance from the camp. He was rejoiced to find a middle- 
sized beaver there, sufficient for a morning's meal to liis 
hungry comrades. On his way back with his prize, he ob- 
served two heads peering over the edge of an impending cliff, 
several hundred feet high, which he supposed to a couple of 
wolves. As he continued on, he now and then cast his eye up; 
the heads were still there, looking down with fixed and watch- 
ful gaze. A suspicion now flashed across his mind that they 
might be Indian scouts ; and had they not been far above the 
reach of his rifle, he would undoubtedly have regaled them 
with a shot. 

On arriving at the camp, he dii-ected the attention of his 
comrades to these aerial observers. The same idea was at first 
entertained, that they were wolves; but their immovable 
watchfulness soon satisfied every one that they were Indians. 
It was concluded that they were watching the movements of 
the party, to discover their place of concealment of such ar- 
ticles as they would be compelled to leave behind. There was 
no hkelihood that the caches would escape the search of such 
keen eyes and experienced rummagers, and the idea was in- 
tolerable that any more booty should faU into their hands. To 
disappoint them, therefore, the travellers stripped the caches of 
the articles deposited there, and collecting together everything 
that they could not carry away with them, made a bonfire of 
aU that would burn, and threw the rest into the river. There 
was a forlorn satisfaction in thus balking the Crows, by the 
destruction of their own property ; and, having thus gratified 
their pique, they shouldered their packs, about ten o'clock in 
the morning, and set out on their pedestrian wayfaring. 

The route they took was down along the banks of Mad 
River. This stream makes its way through the defiles of the 
mountains, into the plain below Fort Henry, where it termi- 
nates in Snake River. Mr. Stuart was in hopes of meeting 
with Snake encampments in the plain, where he might pro- 
cure a couple of horses to transport the baggage. In such 
case, he intended to resume his eastern course across tho 
mountains, and endeavor to reach the Cheyenne River before 
winter. Should he fail, however, of obtaining horses, he would 
probably be compelled to winter on the Pacific side of the 



296 ASTORIA. 

mountains, somewhere on the head waters of the Spanish oi? 
Colorado River. 

With all the care that had been observed in taking nothing 
with them that was not absolutely necessary, the poor pedes- 
trians were heavily laden, and their burdens added to the 
fatigue of their rugged road. They suffered much, too, from 
hunger. The trout they caught were too poor to yield much 
nourishment ; their main dependence, therefore, was upon an 
old beaver trap, which they had providentially retained. 
"Whenever they were fortunate enough to entrap a beaver, it 
was cut up immediately and distributed, that each man might 
carry his share. 

After two days of toilsome travel, during which they made 
but eighteen miles, they stopped on the 21st to build two rafts 
on which to cross to the north side of the river. On these they 
embarked on the following morning, four on one raft, and 
three on the other, and pushed .boldly from shore. Finding 
the rafts sufficiently firm and steady to withstand the rough 
and rapid water, they changed their minds, and instead of 
crossing, ventured to float down with the current. The river 
was in general very rapid, and from one to two hundred yards 
in width, winding in every direction through mountains of 
hard black rock, covered with pines and cedars. The moun- 
tains to the east of the river were spurs of the Rocky range, 
and of great magnitude ; those on the west were little better 
than hills, bleak and barren, or scantily clothed with stunted 
grass. 

Mad River, though deserving its name from the impetuosity 
of its current, was free from rapids and cascades, and flowed 
on in a single channel between gravel banks, often fringed with 
cotton-wood and dwarf willows in abundance. These gave 
sustenance to immense quantities of beaver, so that the voy- 
ageurs found no difficulty in procuring food. Ben Jones, also, 
killed a fallow deer and a wolverine, and as they were enabled 
to carry the carcasses on their rafts, their larder was well sup- 
plied. Indeed they might have occasionally shot beavers that 
were swimming in the river as they floated by, but they hu- 
manely spared their lives, being in no want of meat at the 
time. In this way they kept down the river for three days, 
drifting with the current and encamping on land at night, 
when they drew up their rafts on shore. Toward the evening 
of the third day, they came to a little island on which they 
descried a gang of elk. Ben Jones landed, and was fortunate 



ASTORIA. 297 

enough to wound one, which immediately took to the water, 
but, being unable to stem the current, drifted above a mile, 
when it was overtaken and drawn to shore. As a storm was 
gathering, they now encamped on the margin of the river, 
where they remained all the next day, sheltering themselves 
as well as they could from the rain, and hail, and snow, a 
sharp foretaste of the impending winter. During their en- 
campment they employed themselves in jerking a part of the 
elk for future supply. In cutting up the carcass they found 
that the animal had been wounded by hunters, about a week 
previously, an arrow head and a musket ball remaining in the 
wounds. In the wilderness every trivial circumstance is a 
matter of anxious speculation. The Snake Indians have no 
guns ; the elk, therefore, could not have been wounded by one 
of them. They were on the borders of the country infested by 
the Blackfeet, who carry firearms. It was concluded, there- 
fore, that the elk had been hunted by some of that wandering 
and hostile tribe, who, of course, must be in the neighborhood. 
The idea put an end to the transient solace they had enjoyed 
in the comparative repose and abundance of the river. 

For three days longer they continued to navigate with theii- 
rafts. The recent storm had rendered the weather extremely 
cold. They had now floated down the river about ninety-one 
miles, when, finding the mountains on the right diminished to 
moderate sized hills, they landed, and prepared to resume their 
journey on foot. Accordingly, having spent a day in prepara- 
tions, making moccasons, and parcelling out their jerked meat 
in packs of twenty pounds to each man, they turned their 
backs upon the river on the 29th of September, and struck off 
to the northeast; keeping along the southern sku'i of the 
mountain on which Henry's Fort was situated. 

Their march was slow and toilsome ; part of the time through 
an alluvial bottom, thickly grown with cotton-wood, hawthorn, 
and willows, and part of the time over rough hills. Three ante- 
lopes came within shot, but they dared not fire at them, lest 
the report of their rifles should betray them to the Blackfeet. 
In the course of the day they came upon a large horse-track, 
apparently about three weeks old, and in the evening en- 
camped on the banks of a small stream, on a spot which had 
been the camping place of this same band. 

On the following morning they still observed the Indian 
track, but after a time they came to where it separated in 
every direction, and was lost. This showed that the band had 



298 ASTORIA. 

dispersed in various hunting parties, and was, in all proba- 
bility, still in the neighborhood; it was necessary, there:?ore, 
to proceed with the utmost caution. They kept a vigilant eye 
as they marched, upon every height where a scout might be 
posted, and scanned the solitary landscape and the distant 
ravines, to observe any column of smoke ; but nothing of the 
kind was to be seen ; all was indescribably stern and lifeless. 

Toward evening they came to where there were several hot 
springs, strongly impregnated with iron and sulphur, and send- 
ing up a volume of vapor that tainted the surrounding atmos- 
phere, and might be seen at the distance of a couple of miles. 

Near to these they encamped in a deep gully, which afforded 
some concealment. To their great concern, Mr. Crooks, who 
had been indisposed for the two preceding days, had a violent 
fever in the night. 

Shortly after daybreak they resumed their march. On 
emerging from the glen a consultation was held as to their 
course. Should they continue round the skirt of the moun- 
tain, they would be in danger of falling in with the scattered 
parties of Blackfeet, who were probably hunting in the plain. 
It was thought most advisable, therefore, to strike directly 
across the mountain, since the route, though rugged and diflft- 
cult, would be most secure. This counsel was indignantly de- 
rided by M'Lellan as pusillanimous. Hot-headed and impatient 
at all times, he had been rendered irascible by the fatigues of 
the journey, and the condition of his feet, which were chafed 
and sore. He could not endure the idea of encountering the 
difficulties of the mountain, and swore he would rather face 
all the Blackfeet in the country. He was overruled, however, 
and the party began to ascend the mountain, striving, with 
the ardor and emulation of young men, who should be first 
up. M'Lellan, who was double the age of some of his com- 
panions, soon began to lose breath, and fall in the rear. In 
the distribution of burdens, it was his turn to carry the old 
beaver trap. Piqued and irritated, he suddenly came to a 
halt, swore he would carry it no further, and jerked it half 
way down the hill. He was offered in place of it a package of 
dried meat, but this he scornfully threw upon the ground. 
They might carry it, he said, who needed it, for his part, he 
could provide his daily food with his rifle. He concluded by 
flinging off from the party, and keeping along the skirts of the 
mountain, leaving those, he said, to climb rocks, who were 
>iraid to face Indians, It was in vain that Mv. Stuart rep- 



ASTORIA. 299 

resented to him the rashness of his conduct, and the dangers 
to which he exposed himself; he rejected such counsel as 
craven. It was equally useless to represent the dangers to 
wliich he subjected his companions ; as he could be discovered 
at a great distance on those naked j)lains, and the Indians, 
seeing him, would know that there must be other white men 
within reach. M'Lellan turned a deaf ear to every remon- 
strance, and kept on his wilful way. 

It seems a strange instance of perverseness in this man thus 
to fling huxLself off alone, in a savage region, where sohtude it- 
self was dismal, but every encounter with his fellow-man full 
of peril. Such, however, is the hardness of spirit, and the in- 
sensibflity to danger that grow upon men in the wilderness. 
M'Lellan, moreover, was a man of peculiar temperament, un- 
governable in his wlQ, of a courage that absolutely knew no 
fear, and somewhat of a braggart spirit, that took a pride in 
doing desperate and hair-brained things. 

Mr. Stuart and his party found the passage of the mountain 
somewhat difficult, on account of the snow, which in many 
places was of considerable depth, though it was now but the 1st 
of October. They crossed the summit early in the afternoon, 
and beheld below them a plain about twenty miles wide, 
bounded on the opposite side by their old acquaintances, the 
Pilot Knobs, those towering mountains which had served Mr. 
Hunt as landmarks in part of his route of the preceding year. 
Through the intermediate plain wandered a river about fifty 
yards wide, sometimes gleaming in open day, but oftener run- 
ning through willowed banks, which marked its serpentine 
course. 

Those of the party who had been across these mountains 
pointed out much of the bearings of the country to Mr. Stuart. 
They showed him in what direction must lie the deserted post 
called Henry's Fort, where they had abandoned their horses 
and embarked in canoes, and they informed him that the 
stream which wandered through the plain below them, fell 
into Henry River, half way between the fort and the mouth of 
Mad or Snake River. The character of all this mountain region 
was decidedly volcanic ; and to the northwest, between Henry's 
Fort and the source of the Missouri, Mr. Stuart observed, 
several very high peaks covered with snow, from two of which 
smoke ascended in considerable volumes, apparently from 
craters, in a state of eruption. 

0-1 their way down the mountain, when they had reached 



300 ASTORIA. 

the skirts, they descried M'Lellan at a distance, in the advance, 
traversing the plain. Whether he saw them or not, he showed 
no disposition to rejoin tiiem, hut pursued his sullen and soli- 
tary way. After descending into the plain, they kept on 
about six miles, until they reached the little river, which was 
here about knee deep, and richly fringed with willows. Here 
they encamped for the night. At this encampment the fever 
of Mr. Crooks increased to such a degree that it was impossible 
for him to travel. Some of the men were strenuous for Mr. 
Stuart to proceed without him, urging the imminent danger 
they were exposed to by delay in that unknown and barren 
region, infested by the most treacherous and inveterate of foes. 
They represented that the season was rapidly advancing ; the 
weather for some days had been extremely cold ; the moun- 
tains were already almost impassable from snow, and would 
soon present effectual barriers. Their provisions were ex- 
hausted ; there was no game to be seen, and they did not dare 
to use their rifles, through fear of drawing upon them the 
Blackfeet. 

The picture thus presented was too true to be contradicted, 
and made a deep impression on the mind of Mr. Stuart ; but 
the idea of abandoning a fellow-being, and a comrade, in such 
a forlorn situation, was too repugnant to his feelings to be 
admitted for an instant. He represented to the men that the 
malady of Mr. Crooks could not be of long duration, and that 
in all probability he would be able to travel in the course of a 
few days. It was with great difficulty, however, that he pre- 
vailed upon them to abide the event. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 



As the travellers were now in a dangerous neighborhood 
where the report of a rifle might bring the savages upon them, 
they had to depend upon their old beaver-trap for subsistence. 
The little river on which they were encamped gave many 
"beaver signs," and Ben Jones set off at daybreak, along the 
willowed banlj:s, to find a proper trapping-place. As he was 
making his way among the thickets, with his trap on his 
shoulder and his rifle in his hand, he heard a crashing sound, 
and turning, beheld a huge grizzly bear advancing upon him 



ASTORIA, 801 

with a terrific growl. The sturdy Kentuckian was not to be 
intimidated by man or monster. LeveUing his rifle, he pulled 
trigger. The bear was wounded, but not mortally; instead, 
however, of rushing upon his assailant, as is generally the case 
with this kind of bear, he retreated into the bushes. Jones 
followed him for some distance, but with suitable caution, and 
Brmn effected his escape. 

As there was every prospect of a detention of some days in 
this place, and as the supplies of the beaver trap were too pre- 
carious to be depended upon, it became absolutely necessary to 
run some risk of discovery by hunting in the neighborhood. 
Ben Jones, therefore, obtained permission to range with his 
rifle some distance from the camp, and set off to beat up the 
river banks, in defiance of bear or Blackfeet. 

He returned in great spirits in the course of a few hours, 
having come upon a gang of elk about six miles off, and killed 
five. Tliis was joyful news, and the party immediately moved 
forward to the place where he had left the carcasses. They 
were obliged to support Mr. Crooks the whole distance, for he 
was unable to walk. Here they remained for two or three 
days, feasting heartily on elk meat, and drying as much as 
they would be able to carry away with them. 

By the 5th of October, some simple prescriptions, together 
with an "Indian sweat," had so far benefited Mr. Crooks, that 
he was enabled to move about; they, therefore, set forward 
slowly, dividing his pack and accoutrements among them, and 
made a creeping day's progress of eight miles south. Their 
route for the most part lay through swamps, caused by the 
industrious labors of the beaver; for this little animal had 
dammed up numerous small streams issuing from the Pilot 
Knob Mountains, so that the low grounds on their borders were 
completely inundated. In the course of their march they killed 
a grizzly bear, with fat on its flank upwards of three inches in 
thickness. This was an acceptable addition to their stock of 
elk meat. The next day Mr. Crooks was sufficiently recruited 
in strength to be able to carry his rifle and pistols, and they 
made a march of seventeen miles along the borders of the plain. 

Their journey daily became more toilsome, and their suffer- 
ings more severe, as they advanced. Keeping up the chamiel 
of a river, they traversed the rugged summit of the Pilot Knob 
Mountain, covered with snow nine inches deep. For several 
days they continued, bending their course as much as possible 
to the east, over a succession of rocky heights, deep valleys, 



302 ASTORIA. 

and rapid streams. Sometimes their dizzy path lay along the 
margin of perpendicular precipices, several hundred feet in 
height, where a single false step might precipitate them into 
the rocky bed of a torrent which roared below. Not the least 
part of their weary task wae* the fording of the numerous wind 
ings and branchings of the mountain rivers, all boisterous in 
their currents and icy cold. 

■' Hunger was added to their other sufferings, and soon be- 
came the keenest. The small supply of bear and elk meat 
which they had been able to carry, in addition to their previous 
burdens, served but f oi* a very short time. In their anxiety to 
struggle forward, they had but little time to hunt, and scarce 
any game in their path. For three days they had nothing to 
eat but a small duck and a few poor trout. They occasionally 
saw numbers of antelopes, and tried every art to get within 
shot ; but the timid animals were more than commonly wild, 
and after tantalizing the hungry hunters for a time, bounded 
away beyond all chance of pursuit. At length they were for- 
tunate enough to kill one ; it was extremely meagre, and yield- 
ed but a scanty supply ; but on this they subsisted for several 
days. 

On the 11th, they encamped on a small stream, near the foot 
of the Spanish Eiver Mountain. Here they met with traces of 
that wayward and solitary being, M'LeUan, who was still keep- 
ing on ahead of them through these lonely mountains. He had 
encamped the night before on this stream ; they found the em- 
bers of the fire by which he had slept, and the remains of a 
miserable wolf on which he had supped. It was evident he had 
suffered, like themselves, the pangs of hunger, though he had 
fared better at this encampment ; for they had not a mouthful 
to eat. 

The next day they rose hungry and alert, and set out with 
the dawn to climb the mountain, which was steep and difficult. 
Traces of volcanic eruptions were to be seen in various direc- 
i tions. There was a species of clay also to be met with, out of 
' which the Indians manufacture pots and jars, and dishes. It is 
very fine and light, of an agreeable smell, and of a brown color 
spotted with yellow, and dissolves readily in the mouth. Ves- 
sels manufactured of it are said to impart a pleasant smell and 
flavor to any liquids. These mountains abound also with min- 
eral earths, or chalks of various colors ; especially two kinds of 
ochre, one a pale, the other a bright red, like vermilion ; much 
used by the Indians, in painting their bodies. 



ASTORIA. 303 

About noon the travellers reached the '* drains" and brooks 
that formed the head waters of the river, and later in the day 
descended to where the main body, a shallow stream, about a 
hundred and sixty yards wide, poured through its mountaui 
valley. 

Here the poor famishing wanderers had expected to find buf- 
falo in abundance, and had fed their hungry hopes during their 
scrambling toil, with the thoughts of roasted ribs, juicy hmnps, 
and broiled marrow bones. To their great disappointment the 
river banks were deserted ; a few old tracks, showed where a 
herd of bulls had some time before passed along, but not a horn 
nor hump was to be seen in the sterile landscape. A few ante- 
lopes looked down upon them from the brow of a crag, but 
flitted away out of sight at the least approach of the hunter. 

In the most starving mood they kept for several miles further 
along the bank of the river, seeking for " beaver signs." Find- 
ing some, they encamped in the vicinity, and Ben Jones imme- 
diately proceeded to set the trap. They had scarce come to a 
halt, when they perceived a large smoke at some distance 
to the southwest. The sight was hailed with joy, for they 
trusted it might rise from some Indian camp, where they could 
procure something to eat, and the dread of starvation had now 
overcome even the terror of the Blackfeet. Le Clerc, one of 
the Canadians, was instantly dispatched by Mr. Stuart, to re- 
connoitre ; and the travellers set up till a late hour, watching 
and listening for his return, hoping he might bring them food. 
Midnight arrived, but Le Clerc did not make his appearance, 
and they laid down once more supperless to sleep, comforting 
themselves with the hopes that their old beaver trap might fur- 
nish them with a breakfast. 

At daybreak they hastened with famished eagerness to the 
trap— they found in it the forepaw of a beaver; the sight of 
which tantahzed their hmiger, and added to their dejection. 
They resumed their jom^ney with flagging spirits, but had not 
gone far when they perceived Le Clerc approaching at a dis- 
tance. They hastened to meet him, in hopes of tidings of good 
TJheer. He had none to give them ; but news of that strange 
wanderer, M'Lellan. The smoke had risen from his encamp- 
ment, which took fire while he was at a little distance from it 
fishing. Le Clerc found him in forlorn condition. His fishing 
had been unsuccessful. During twelve days that he had been 
wandering alone through these savage mountains, he had found 
scarce anytliing to eat. He had been iU, wayworn, sick at 



304 ASTORIA. 

heart, still he had kept forward ; but now his strength and his 
stubbornness were exhausted. He expressed his satisfaction at 
hearing that Mr. Stuart and his party were near, and said he 
would wait at his camp for their arrival, in hopes they would 
give him something to eat, for without food he declared he 
should not be able to proceed mucli further. 

When the party reached the place, they found the poor 
fellow lying on a parcel of withered grass, wasted to a perfect 
skeleton, and so feeble that he could scarce raise his head to 
speak. The presence of his old comrades seemed to revive him ; 
but they had no food to give him, for they themselves were 
almost starving. They urged him to rise and accompany 
them, but he shook his head. It was all in vain, he said ; there 
w^as no prospect of their getting speedy relief, and without it he 
should perish by the way; he might as well, therefore, stay 
and die where he was. At length, after much persuasion, they 
got him upon his legs ; his rifle and other effects were shared, 
among them, and he was cheered and aided forward. In this 
way tliey proceeded for seventeen miles, over a level plain of 
sand, until, seeing a few antelopes in the distance, they en- 
camped on the margin of a small stream. All now that were 
capable of the exertion, t'urned out to h^unt for a meal. Their 
efforts were fruitless, and after dark they returned to their 
camp, famished almost to de<?peration. 

As they were preparing for the third time to lay down to 
sleep without a mouthful to eat, Le Clerc, one of the Canadi- 
ans, gaunt and wild with hunger, approached Mr. Stuart with 
his r^^m. in liis hand. ' ' It was all in vain, " he said, ' ' to attempt 
to proceed any further without food. They had a barren plain 
before them, three or four days' journey in extent, on which 
nothing was to be procured. They must all perish before they 
could get to the end of it. It was better, therefore, that one 
should die to save the rest." He proposed, therefore, that they 
should cast lots ; adding as an inducement for Mr. Stuart to 
assent to the proposition, that he as leader of the party, should 
be exempted. 

Mr. Stuart shuddered at the horrible proposition, and 
endeavored to reason with the man, but his words were 
unavailing. At length, snatching up his rifle, he threatened to 
shoot him on the spot if he persisted. The famished wretch 
dropped on his knees, begged pardon in the most abject 
terms, and promised never again to offend him -^vith such a 
suggestion. 



ASTORIA. 305 

Quiet being restored to the forlorn encampment, each one 
sought repose. Mr. Stuart, however, was so exhausted by the 
agitation of the past scene, acting upon his emaciated frame, 
that he could scarce crawl to his miserable couch ; where, not- 
withstanding his fatigues, he passed a sleepless night, revolv- 
ing upon their dreary situation, and the desperate prospect be- 
fore them. 

Before daylight the next morning, they were up and on their 
way ; they had nothing to detain them ; no breakfast to prepare, 
and to linger was to perish. They proceeded, however, but 
slowly, for all were faint and weak. Here and there they 
passed the skulls and bones of buffaloes, which showed that 
these animals must have been hunted here during the past 
season; the sight of these bones served only to mock their 
misery. After travelling about nine miles along the plain, 
they ascended a range of hills, and had scarcely gone two miles 
further, when to their great joy, they discovered " an old run- 
down buffalo bull-'' the laggard probably of some herd that 
had been hunted and harassed through the mountains. They 
now all stretched theinselves out to encompass and make sure 
of this solitary animal, for their lives depended upon their suc- 
cess. After considerable trouble and infinite anxiety, they at 
length succeeded in killing him. He was instantly flayed and 
cut up, and so ravenous was their hunger that they devoured 
some of the flesh raw. The residue they carried to a brook 
near by, where they encamped, lit a fire, and began to cook. 

Mr. Stuart was fearful that in their famished state, they 
would eat to excess and injure themselves. He caused a soup 
to be made of some of the meat, and that each should take a 
quantity of it as a prelude to his supper. Tliis may have had a 
beneficial effect, for though they sat up the greater part of the 
night, cooking and cramming, no one suffered any inconve- 
nience. 

The next morning the feasting was resumed, and about mid- 
day, feeling somewhat recruited and refreshed, they set out on 
their journey with renovated spirits, shaping their course 
toward a mountain, the summit of which they saw towering in 
the east, and near to which they expected to find the head 
waters of the Missouri. 

As they proceeded, they continued to see the skeletons of 
buffaloes scattered about the plain in every direction, which 
showed that there had been much hunting here by the Indians 
in the recent season. Further on they crossed a large Indian 



306 ASTORIA. 

trail, forming a deep path, about fifteen days old, which went 
in a north direction. They concluded it to have been made by 
some numerous band of Crows, who had hunted in this country 
for the greater part of the summer. 

On the following day they forded a stream of considerable 
magnitude, with banks clothed with pine trees. Among these 
they found the traces of a large Indian camp, which had evi- 
dently been the headquarters of a hunting expedition, from the 
great quantities of buffalo bones strewed about the neighbor- 
hood. The camp had apparently been abandoned about a 
month. 

In the centre was a singular lodge one hundred and fifty feet 
in circumference, supported by the trunks of twenty trees, 
about twelve inches in diameter and forty-four feet long. 
Across these were laid branches of pine and willow trees, so as 
to yield a tolerable shade. At the west end, immediately oppo- 
site to the door, three bodies lay interred with their feet 
toward the east. At the head of each grave was a branch of 
red cedar firmly planted in the ground. At the foot was a 
large buffalo's skull, painted black. Savage ornaments were 
suspended in various parts of the edifice, and a great number 
of children's moccasons. From the magnitude of this building, 
and the time and labor that must have been expended in erect- 
ing it, the bodies which it contained were probably those of 
noted warriors and hunters. 

The next day, October 17th, they passed two large tributary 
streams of the Spanish Eiver. They took their rise in the 
Wind River Mountains, Avhich ranged along to the east, stu- 
pendously high and rugged, composed of vast masses of black 
rock, almost destitute of wood, and covered in many places 
with snow. This day they saw a few buffalo bulls, and some 
antelopes, but could not kill any ; and their stock of provisions 
began to grow scanty as well as poor. 

On the 18th, after crossing a mountain ridge, and traversing 
a plain, they waded one of the branches of the Spanish River, 
and on ascending its bank, met with about a hundred and 
thirty Snake Indians. They were friendly in their demeanor, 
and conducted them to their encampment, which was about 
three miles distant. It consisted of about forty wigwams, con- 
structed principally of pine branches. The Snakes, hke most 
of their nation, were very poor; the marauding Crows, in their 
late excursion through the country, had picked this unlucky 
band to the very bone, carrying off their horses, several of 



ASTORIA. 307 

their squaws, and most of their effects. In spite of their pov- 
erty, they were hospitable in the extreme, and made the 
hungry strangers welcome to their cabins. A few trinkets 
procured from them a supply of buffalo meat, and of leather 
for moccasons, of which the party were greatly in need. The 
most valuable prize obtained from them, however, was a 
horse ; it was a sorry old animal, in truth, but it was the only 
one that remained to the poor fellows, after the fell swoop of 
the Crows ; yet this they were prevailed upon to part with to 
their guests for a pistol, an axe, a knife, and a few other 
trifling articles. 

They had doleful stories to tell of the Crows, who were en- 
camped on a river at no great distance to the east, and were in 
such force that they dared not venture to seek any satisfac- 
tion for their outrages, or to get back a horse or squaw. They 
endeavored to excite the indignation of their visitors by ac- 
counts of robberies and murders committed on lonely white 
hunters and trappers by Crows and Blackfeet. Some of these 
were exaggerations of the outrages already mentioned, sus- 
tained by some of the scattered members of Mr. Hunt's expedi- 
tion ; others were in all probability sheer fabrications, to which 
the Snakes seem to have been a little prone. Mr. Stuart as- 
sured them that the day was not far distant when the whites 
would make their power to be felt throughout that country 
and take signal vengeance on the perpetrators of these mis- 
deeds. The Snakes expressed great joy at the intelligence, and 
offered their services to aid the righteous cause, brightening 
at the thoughts of taking the field with such potent allies, and 
doubtless anticipating their turn at stealing horses and abduct- 
ing squaws. Their offers of course were accepted ; the calumet 
of peace was produced, and the two forlorn powers smoked 
eternal friendship between themselves, and vengeance upon 
their common spoilers, the Crows. 



CHAPTER XLYIII. 

By sunrise on the following morning (October 19th), the 
travellers had loaded their old horse with buffalo meat, suffi- 
cient for five days' provisions, and, taking leave of their new 
allies, the poor but hospitable Snakes, set forth in somewhat 



308 ASTORIA. 

better spirits, though the increasing cold of the weather an(?i 
the sight of the snowy mountains which they had yet to 
traverse, were enough to chill their very hearts. The country 
along this branch of the Spanish Eiver, as far as they could 
see, was perfectly level, bounded by ranges of lofty moun- 
tains, both to the east and west. They proceeded about three 
miles to the south, where they came again upon the large trail 
of Crow Indians, which they had crossed four days previously, 
made, no doubt, by the same marauding band that had plun- 
dered the Snakes ; and which, according to the account of the 
latter, was now encamped on a stream to the eastward. The 
trail kept on to the southeast, and was so well beaten by horse 
and foot, that they supj^osed at least a hundred lodges had 
passed along it. As it formed, therefore, a convenient high- 
way, and ran in a proper direction, they turned into it, and 
determined to keep along it as far as safety would permit ; as 
the Crow encampment must be some distance off, and it was 
not likely those savages would return upon their steps. They 
travelled forward, therefore, all that day, in the track of their 
dangerous predecessors, which led them across mountain 
streams, and along ridges, and through narrow valleys, all 
tending generally toward the southeast. The wind blew coldly 
from the northeast, with occasional flurries of snow, which 
made them encamp early, on the sheltered banks of a brook. 
The two Canadians, Vallee and Le Clerc, killed a young 
buffalo bull in the evening, which was in good condition, 
and afforded them a plentiful supply of fresh beef. They 
loaded their spits, therefore, and crammed their camp kettle 
with meat, and while the wind whistled, and the snow 
whirled around them, huddled round a rousing fire, basked in 
warmth, and comforted both soul and body with a hearty and 
Invigorating meal. No enjoyments have greater zest than 
these, snatched in the very midst of difficulty and danger; 
and it is probable the poor wayworn and weather-beaten 
travellers relished these creature comforts the more highly 
from the surrounding desolation, and the dangerous proximity 
of the Crows. 

The snow which had fallen in the night made it late in the 
morning before the party loaded their solitary pack-horse, and 
resumed their march. They had not gone far before the Crow 
trace which they were following changed its direction, and 
bore to the north of east. They had already begun to feel 
themselves on dangerous ground in keeping along it, as they 



ASTORIA. 300 

might be descried by some scouts and spies of that race of 
Ishmaelites, whose predatory Mfe required them to be con- 
stantly on the alert. On seeing the trace turn so much to the 
north, thereforth, they abandoned it, and kept on their course 
to the northeast for eighteen miles, through a beautifully un- 
dulating countrj^, having the main chain of mountains on the 
left, and a considerably elevated ridge on the right. Here the 
mountain ridge which divides Wind River from the head 
waters of the Columbia and Spanish Rivers ends abruptly, and 
winding to the north of east, becomes the dividing barrier be- 
tween a branch of the Big Horn and Cheyenne Rivers, and 
those head waters which flow into the Missouri below the 
Sioux country. 

The ridge which lay on the right of the travellers having now 
become very low, they passed over it, and came into a level 
plain about ten mdes in circumference, and incrusted to the 
depth of a foot or eighteen inches with salt as white as snow. 
This is furnished by nmnerous salt springs of limpid water, 
which are continually welling uj), overflowing their borders 
and forming beautiful crystallizations. The Indian tribes of 
the interior are excessively fond of this salt, and repair to the 
valley to collect it, but it is held in distaste by the tribes of the 
sea-coast, who wiU eat nothing that has been cured or seasoned 
by it. 

This evening they encamped on the banks of a small stream, 
in the open prairie. The northeast wind was keen and cut- 
ting ; they had nothing wherewith to make a tire, but a scanty 
growth of sage, or wormwood, and were fain to wrap themselves 
up in their blankets, and huddle themselves in their "nests," 
at an early hour. In the course of the evening, Mr. M'Lellan, 
who had now regained his strength, killed a buffalo, but it 
was some distance from the camp, and they postponed supply- 
ing themselves from the carcass until the following morning. 

The next day (October 21st) the cold continued, accompanied 
by snow. They set forward on their bleak and toilsome way, 
keeping to the east-northeast, toward the lofty summit of a 
mountain, which it was necessary for them to cross. Before 
they reached its base they passed another large trail, steering 
a httle to the right of the point of the mountain. This they 
presumed to have been made by another band of Crov.^s, who 
had probably been hunting lower down on the Spanish River. 

The severity of the weather compelled them to encamp at 
the end of fifteen miles, on the skirts of the mountain, where 



310 ASTORIA. 

they found sufficient dry aspen trees to supply them with fire, 
but they sought in vain about the neighborhood for a spring 
or rill of water. 

At daybreak they were up and on the march, scrambling 
up the mountain side for the distance of eight painful miles. 
From the casual hints given in the travelling memoranda of 
Mr. Stuart, this mountain would seem to offer a rich field of 
speculation for the geologist. Here was a plain three miles 
in diameter, strewed with pumice stone and other volcanic 
reliques, with a lake in the centre, occupying what had prob- 
ably been the crater. Here were also, in some places, deposits 
of marine shells, indicating that this mountain crest had at 
some remote period been below the waves. 

After pausing to repose, and to enjoy these grand but 
savage and awful scenes, they began to descend the eastern 
side of the mountain. The descent was rugged and romantic, 
along deep ravines and defiles, overhung with crags and cliffs, 
among which they beheld numbers of the ahsahta or bighorn, 
skipping fearlessly from rock to rock. Two of them they suc- 
ceeded in bringing down with their rifles, as they peered fear- 
lessly from the brow of their airy precipices. 

Arrived at the foot of the mountain, the travellers found 
a rill of water oozing out of the earth, and resembling in look 
and taste the water of the Missouri. Here they encamped for 
the night, and supped sumptuously upon their mountain mut- 
ton, which they found in good condition, and extremely well 
tasted. 

The morning was bright and intensely cold. Early in the 
day they came upon a stream running to the east, between 
low hills of bluish earth, strongly impregnated with copperas. 
Mr. Stuart supposed this to be one of the head waters of the 
Missouri, and determined to follow its banks. After a march 
of twenty-six miles, however, he arrived at the summit of a 
hill, the prospect of which induced him to alter his intention. 
He beheld, in every direction south of east, a vast plain, 
bounded only by the horizon, through which wandered the 
stream in question, in a south-southeast direction. It could 
not, therefore, be a branch of the Missouri. He now gave up 
all idea of taking the stream for his guide, and shaped his 
course toward a range of mountains in the east, about sixty 
miles distant, near which he hoped to find another stream. 

The weather was now so severe, and the hardships of travel- 
ling so great, that he resolved to halt for the winter, at th9 



ASTORIA. 311 

first eligible place. That night they had to encamp on the 
open prairie, near a scanty pool of water, and without any 
wood to make a fire. The northeast wind blew keenly across 
the naked waste, and they were fain to decamp from their 
inhospitable bivouac before the dawn. 

For two days they kept on in an eastward direction, against 
wintry blasts and occasional snow storms.. They suffered, 
also, from scarcity of water, having occasionally to use melted 
snow; this, with the want of pasturage, reduced their old 
pack-horse sadly. They saw many tracks of buffalo, and 
some few bulls, which, however, got the wind of them, and 
scampered off. 

On the 26th of October they steered east-northeast, for a 
wooded ravine, in a mountain at a small distance from the 
base of which, to their great joy, they discovered an abundant 
stream, running between wallowed banks. Here they halted 
for the night, and Ben Jones having luckily trapped a beaver, 
and killed two buffalo bulls, they remained all the next day 
encamped, feasting and reposing, and allowing their jaded 
horse to rest from his labors. 

The little stream on which they were encamped, was one 
of the head waters of the Platte River, which flows into the 
Missouri ; it was, in fact, the northern fork, or branch of that 
river, though this the travellers did not discover until long 
afterward. Pursuing the course of this stream for about 
twenty miles, they came to where it forced a passage through 
a range of high hills covered with cedars, into an extensive 
low country, affording excellent pasture to numerous herds of 
buffalo. Here they killed three cows, which were the first 
they had been able to get, having hitherto had to content 
themselves with bull beef, which at this season of the year is 
very poor. The hump meat afforded them a repast fit for an 
epicure. 

Late on the afternoon of the 30th they came to where the 
stream, now increased to a considerable size, poured along in 
a ravine between precipices of red stone, two hundred feet in 
height. For some distance it dashed along, over huge masses 
of rock, with foaming violence, as if exasperated by being 
compressed into so narrow a channel, and at length leaped 
down a chasm that looked dark and frightful in the gathering 
twilight. 

For a part of the next day, the wild river, in its capricious 
wanderings, led them through a variety of strikmg scenes. 



812 ASTORIA. 

At one time they were upon high plains, hke platforms among 
the mountains, with herds of buffaloes roaming about them ; 
at another, among rude rocky defiles, broken into cliffs and 
precipices, where the black-tailed deer bounded off among the 
crags, and the bighorn basked on the sunny brow of the preci- 
pice. 

In the after part of the day they came to another scene, 
surpassing in savage grandeur those already described. They 
had been travelling for some distance through a pass of the 
mountams, keeping parallel with the river, as it roared along, 
out of sight, through a deep ravine. Sometimes their devious 
path approached the margin of cliffs below which the river 
foamed and boiled and whirled among the masses of rock that 
had fallen into its channel. As they crept cautiously on, lead- 
ing their solitary pack-horse along these giddy heights, they 
all at once came to where the river thundered down a succes- 
sion of precipices, throwing up clouds of spray, and making 
a prodigious din and uproar. The travellers remained, for a 
time, gazing with mingled awe and delight, at this furious 
cataract, to which Mr. Stuart gave, from the color of the 
impending rocks, the name of "The Fiery Narrows." 



CHAPTER XLIX. 



The travellers encamped for the night on the banks of the 
river below the cataract. The night was cold, with partial 
showers of rain and sleet. The morning dawned gloomily, the 
skies were sullen and overcast, and threatened further storms ; 
but the little band resumed their journey, in defiance of the 
Vv^eather. The increasing rigor of the season, however, wliich 
makes itself felt early in these mountainous regions, and on 
these naked and elevated plains, brought them to a pause, and 
a serious deliberation, after they had descended about thirty 
miles further along the course of the river. 

All were convinced that it was m. vain to attempt to accom- 
plish their journey on foot at this inclement season. They 
had still many hundred miles to traverse before they should 
reach the main course of the Missouri, and their route would 
lay over immense prairies, naked and bleak, and destitute of 
fuel. The question then was, where to choose their wintering 



ASTOniA. ^>I3 

place, and whether or not to proceed further down fcho river. 
They had at first imagined it to be one of the head waters, or 
tributary streams, of the Missouri. Afterward, they had 
beheved it to be the Rapid, or Quicourt River, in which 
opinion they had not come nearer to the truth; they now, 
however, were persuaded, with equal fallacy, by its inclining 
somewhat to the north of east, that it Avas the Cheyenne. If 
so, by continuing down it much further they must arrive 
among the Indians, from whom the river takes its name. 
Among these they would be sure to meet some of the Sioux 
tribe. These would apprise their relatives, the piratical Sioux 
of the Missouri, of the approach of a band of white traders ; so 
that, in the spring time, they would be likely to be waylaid 
and robbed on their way down the river, by some party in 
ambush upon its banks. 

Even should this prove to be the Quicourt or Rapid River, it 
would not be prudent to winter much further down upon its 
banks, as, though they might be out of the range of the Sioux, 
they Avould be in the neighborhood of the Pone as, a tribe 
nearly as dangerous. It was resolved, therefore, since they 
must winter somewhere on this side of the Missouri, to 
descend no lower, but to keep up in these sohtary regions, 
where they would be in no danger of molestation. 

They were brought the more promptly and unanimously to 
this decision, by coming upon an excellent wintering place, 
that promised everything requisite for their comfort. It was 
on a fine bend of the river, just below where it issued out from 
among a ridge of mountains, and bent toward the northeast. 
Here was a beautiful low point of land, covered by cotton- 
wood, and surrounded by a thick gi'owth of willow, so as to 
yield both shelter and fuel, as well as materials for building. 
The river swept by in a strong current, about a hundred and 
fifty yards ^vide. To the southeast were mountains of moder- 
ate height, the nearest about two miles off, but the whole chain 
ranging to the east, south, and southwest, as far as the eye 
could reach. Their summits were crowned with extensive 
tracts of pitch x^iae, checkered with small patches of the quiv- 
ering aspen. Lower down were thick forests of firs and red 
cedars, growing out in many places from the very fissures of 
the rocks. The mountains were broken and precipitous, with 
huge bluffs protruding from among the forests. Their rocky 
recesses and beetling cliffs afforded retreats to innumerable 
flocks of the bighorn, while their woody summits and ravines 



314 ASTORIA. 

abounded with bears and black-tailed deer. These, with the 
numerous herds of buffalo that ranged the lower grounds along 
the river, promised the travellers abundant cheer in their 
winter quarters. 

On the 2d of November, therefore, they pitched their camp for 
the winter, on the woody point, and their first thought was to 
obtain a supply of provisions. Ben Jones and the two Cana- 
dians accordingly sallied forth, accompanied by two others of 
the party, leaving but one to watch the camp. Their hunting 
was uncommonly successful. In the course of two days they 
killed thirty-two buffaloes, and collected their meat on the 
margin of a small brook, about a mile distant. Fortunately, a 
severe frost froze the river, so that the meat was easily trans- 
ported to the encampment. On a succeeding day, a herd of 
buffalo came trampling throught the woody bottom on the 
river banks, and fifteen more were killed. 

It was soon discovered, however, that there was game of a 
more dangerous nature in the neighborhood. On one occasion 
Mr. Crooks had wandered about a mile from the camp, and 
had ascended a small hill commanding a view of the river. 
He was without his rifle, a rare circumstance, for in these 
wild regions, where one may put up a wild animal, or a wild 
Indian, at every turn, it is customary never to stir from the 
camp-fire unarmed. The hill where he stood overlooked the 
place where the massacre of the buffalo had taken place. As 
he was looking around on the prospect his eye was caught by 
an object below, moving directly toward him. To his dismay 
he discovered it to be a grizzly bear, with two cubs. There 
was no tree at hand into which he could climb ; to run would 
only be to provoke pursuit, and he should soon be overtaken. 
He threw himself on the ground, therefore, and lay motionless, 
watching the movements of the animal with intense anxiety. 
It continued to advance until at the foot of the hill, when it 
turned, and made into the woods, having probably gorged it 
self with buffalo flesh. Mr. Crooks made all haste back to the 
camp, rejoicing at his escape, and determining never to stir 
out again without his rifle. A few days after this circum- 
stance, a grizzly bear was shot in the neighborhood by Mr. 
Miller. 

As the slaughter of so many buffaloes had provided the 
party with beef for the winter, in case they met with no 
further supply, they now set to work, heart and hand, to build 
a comfortable Avigwam. In a little while the woody promou' 



ASTORIA. 315 

tory rang with the unwonted sound of the axe. Some of its 
lofty trees were laid low, and by the second evening the cabin 
was complete. It was eight feet wide, and eighteen feet long. 
The walls were six feet high, and the whole was covered 
with buffalo skins. The fireplace was in the centre, and the 
smoke found its way out by a hole in the roof. 

The hunters were next sent out to procure deer skins for 
garments, moccasons, and other purposes. They made the 
mountains echo with their rifles, and, in the course of two 
days' hunting, killed twenty-eight bighorns and black-tailed 
deer. 

The party now revelled in abundance. After all that they 
had suffered from hunger, cold, fatigue, and watchfulness; 
after all their perils from treacherous and savage men, they 
exulted in the snugness and security of their isolated cabin, 
hidden, as they thought, even from the prying eyes of Indian 
scouts, and stored with creature comforts; and they looked 
forward to a winter of peace and quietness ; of roasting, and 
boihng, and broiling, and feasting upon venison, and moun- 
tain mutton, and bear's meat, and marrow bones, and buffalo 
humps, and other hunter's dainties, and of dosing and reposing 
round their fire, and gossiping over past dangers and adven- 
tures, and telling long hunting stories, until spring should 
return ; when they would make canoes of buffalo skins and 
float themselves down the river. 

From such halcyon dreams they were startled one morning 
at daybreak, by a savage yeU. They started up, and seized 
their rifles. The yell was repeated by two or three voices. 
Cautiously peeping out, they beheld, to their dismay, several 
Indian warriors among the trees, all armed and painted in 
warlike style; being evidently bent on some hostile purpose. 

Miller changed countenance as he regarded them. ' ' We are 
in trouble," said he, "these are some of the rascally Arapa- 
hays that robbed me last year." Not a word was uttered by 
the rest of the party, but they silently slung their powder 
horns and ball pouches, and prepared for battle. M'Lellan, 
who had taken his gun to pieces the evening before, put it 
together in aU haste. He proposed that they should break 
out the clay from between the logs, so as to be able to fire 
upon the enemy. 

"Not yet," replied Stuart; "it will not do to show fear or 
distrust ; we must first hold a parley. Some one must go out 
and meet them as a friend. "-^ — 



316 ASTORIA. 

Who was to undertake the task? it was full of peril, as the 
envoy might be shot down at the threshold. 

"The leader of a party," said Miller, " always takes the ad- 
vance." 

"Good!" replied Stuart; "I am ready." He immediatel}^ 
went forth; one of the Canadians followed hun; the rest of 
the party remained in garrison, to keep the savages in check. 

Stuart advanced holding his rifle in one hand, and extending 
the other to the savage that appeared to be the chief. The 
latter stepped forward and took it ; his men followed his ex- 
ajiple, and all shook hands with Stuai't, in token of friendship. 
They now explained their errand. They were a war party of 
Arapahay braves. Their village lay on a stream several days' 
journey to the eastward. It had been attacked and ravaged 
during their cibsence, by a band of Crows, who had carried off 
several of their women and most of their horses. They were in 
quest of vengeance. For sixteen days they had been tracking 
the Crows about the mountains, but had not yet come upon 
them. In the meantime they had met with scarcely any game, 
and were half famished. About two days previously, they 
had heard the report of firearms among the mountains, and on 
searching in the direction of the sound, had come to a place 
where a deer had been killed. They had immediately put 
themselves upon the track of the hunters, and by following it 
up, had arrived at the cabin. 

Mr. Stuart now invited the chief and another, who appeared 
to be his lieutenant, into the hut, but made signs that no one 
else was to enter. The rest halted at the door ; others came 
straggling up, until the whole party, to the number of twenty- 
three, were gathered before the hut. They were armed with 
bows and arrows, tomahawks, and scalping knives, and some 
few with guns. All were painted and dressed for war, and 
had a wild and fierce appearance. Mr. Miller recognized 
among them some of the very fellows who had robbed him in 
'the preceding year; and put his comrades upon their guard. 
Every man stood ready to resist the first act of hostility; 
the savages, however, conducted themselves peaceably, and 
showed none of that swaggering arrogance which a war party 
is apt to assume. 

On entering the hut the chief and his lieutenant cast a wist- 
ful look at the rafters, laden with venison and bufi'alo meat. 
Mr. Stuart made a merit of necessity, and invited them to help 
themselves. They did not wait to be pressed. Tlie rafters 



' ASTORIA. 317 

were soon eased of their burden -, venisor and beef were passed 
out to the crew before the door, and a scene of gormandizmg 
commenced, of which few can have an idea, who ha^e not 
witnessed tlie gastronomic powers of an Indian, after an in- 
terval of fasting. This was kept up throughout the day; they 
paused now and then, it is true, for a brief interval, but only 
to return to the charge with renewed ardor. The chief and 
the lieutenant surpassed all the rest in the vigor and persever- 
ance of their attacks ; as if, from their station, they were 
bound to signalize themselves in all onslaughts. Mr. Stuart 
kept them well supplied with choice bits, for it was his policy 
to overfeed them, and keep them from leaving the hut, where 
they served as hostages for the good conduct of their followers. 
Once, only, in the course of the day, did the chief sally forth. 
Mr. Stuart and one of his men accompanied him, armed with 
their rifles, but without betraying any distrust. The chieftain 
soon returned, and renewed his attack upon the larder. In a 
word, he and his worthy coadjutor, the lieutenant, ate until 
they were both stupofied. 

Toward the evening the Indians made their preparations for 
the night according to the practice of war parties. Those out- 
side of the hut tln"ew up two breastworks, into which they re- 
tired at a tolerably early hour, and slept like overfed hounds. 
As to the chief and his lieutenant, they passed the night in the 
hut, in the course of which, they, two or three times, got up to 
eat. The travellers took turns, one at a time, to mount guard 
until the morning. 

Scarce had the day dawned, when the gormandizing was re- 
newed by the whole band, and carried on with surprising vigor 
until ten o'clock, when all prepared to depart. They had six 
days' journey yet to make, they said, before they should come 
up with the Crows, who they understood were encamped on a 
river to the northward. Their way lay through a hungry 
country where there was no game; they would, moreover, 
have but little time to hunt; they, therefore, craved a small 
supply of provisions for their journey. Mr. Stuart again in- 
vited them to help themselves. They did so with keen fore- 
thought, loading themselves with the choicest parts of the 
meat, and leaving the late plenteous larder far gone in a con- 
sumption. Their next request was for a supply of ammunition, 
having guns, but no powder and ball. They promised to pay 
magnificently out of the spoils of their foray. "We are poor 
now," said they, "and are obliged to go on foot, but we shali 



318 ASTORIA. 

soon come back laden with booty, and all mounted on horse- 
back, with scalps hanging at our bridles. We will then give 
each of you a horse to keep you from being tu-ed on your 
journey." 

"Well," said Mr. Stuart, "when you bring the horses, you 
shall have the ammunition, but not before." The Indians saw 
by his determined tone, that all f urtlier entreaty would be un- 
availing, so they desisted, with a good-humored laugh, and 
went off exceedingly well freighted, both within and without, 
promising to be back again in the course of a fortnight. 

No sooner were they out of hearing, than the luckless travel- 
lers held another council. The security of their cabin was at 
an end, and with it all their dreams of a quiet and cosy winter. 
They were between two fires. On one side were their old 
enemies, the Crows, on the other side, the Arapahays, no less 
dangerous freebooters. As to the moderation of this war 
party, they considered it assumed, to put them off their guard 
against some more favorable opportunity for a surprisal. It 
was determined, therefore, not to await their return, but to 
abandon, with all speed, this dangerous neighborhood. From 
the accounts of their recent visitors, they were led to beheve, 
though erroneously, that they were upon the Quicourt, or 
Rapid River. They proposed now to keep along it to its con- 
fluence with the Missouri ; but, should they be prevented by 
the rigors of the season from proceeding so far, at least to 
reach a part of the river where they might be able to construct 
canoes of greater strength and durability than those of buffalo 
skins. 

Accordingly, on the 13th of December, they bade adieu, with 
many a regret, to their comfortable quarters, where, for five 
weeks, they had been indulging the sweets of repose, of plenty, 
and of fancied security. They were still accompanied by theii 
veteran pack-horse, which the Arapahays had omitted to steal. 
3ither because they intended to steal him on their return, or 
because they thought him not worth stealing. 



CHAPTER L. 



The interval of comfort and repose which the party had en- 
joyed in their wigwam, rendered the renewal of their fatigues 
intolerable for the first two or three days. The snow lay deep, 



ASTOEIA. 319 

and was slightly frozen on the surface, but not sufficiently to 
bear their weight. Theli' feet became soi'e by breaking through 
the crust, and their limbs weary by floundering on without 
firm foothold. So exhausted and dispirited were they, that 
they began to think it would be better to remain and run the 
risk of being killed by the Indians, than to drag on thus pain- 
fully, with the probability of perishing by the way. Their 
miserable horse fared no better than themselves, having for 
the first day or two no other fodder than the ends of willow 
twigs, and the bark of the cotton- wood tree. 

They all, however, appeared to gain patience and hardihood 
as they proceeded, and for fourteen days kept steadily on, 
making a distance of about three hundred and thirty miles. 
For some days the range of mountains which had been near 
to their wigwam kept parallel to the river at no great distance, 
but at length subsided into hills. Sometimes they found the 
river bordered with alluvial bottoms, and groves with cotton- 
wood and willows ; sometimes the adjacent country was naked 
and barren. In one place it ran for a considerable distance 
between rocky hills and promontories covered with cedar and 
pitch pines, and peopled with the bighorn and the mountain 
deer ; at other places it wandered through prairies well stocked 
with buffaloes and antelopes. As they descended the course of 
the river, they began to perceive the ash and white oak here 
and there among the cotton-wood and willow; and at length 
caught a sight of some wild horses on the distant prairies. 

The weather was various ; at one time the snow lay deep ; 
then they had a genial day or two, with the mildness and 
serenity of autumn; then, again, the frost was so severe that 
the river was sufficiently frozen to bear them upon the ice. 

During the last three days of their fortnight's travel, how\ 
ever, the face of the country changed. The timber gradually 
diminished, until they could scarcely find fuel sufficient for 
culinary purposes. The game grew more and more scanty, and, 
finally, none were to be seen but a few miserable broken-down 
buffalo buUs, not worth killing. The snow lay fifteen inches 
deep, and made the travelling grievously painful and toilsome. 
At length, they came to an immense plain, where no vestige of 
timber was to be seen ; nor a single quadruped to enliven the 
desolate landscape. Here, then, their hearts failed them, and 
they held another consultation. The width of the river, which 
was upward of a mile, its extreme shallowness, the frequency 
of quicksands, and various other characteristics, had at length 



320 ASTORIA. 

made them sensible of their errors with respect to it, and they 
now came to the correct conchision, that they were on the 
banks of the Platte or Shallow Eiver. What were they to do? 
Pursue its course to the Missouri? To go on at this season of 
the year seemed dangerous in the extreme. There was no 
prospect of obtaining either food or firing. The country was 
destitute of trees, and though there might be drift-wood along 
the river, it lay too deep beneath the snow for them to find it. 

The weather was threatening a change, and a snow-storm on 
these boundless wastes might prove as fatal as a wliirlwind of 
sand on an Arabian desert. After much dreary deliberation, 
it was at length determined to retrace their three last days' 
journey of seventy -seven miles, to a place which they had re- 
marked where there was' a sheltering growth of forest trees, 
and a country abundant in game. Here they would once more 
set up their winter quarters, and await the opening of the navi- 
gation to launch themselves in canoes. 

Accordingly, on the 27th of December, they faced about, re- 
traced their steps, and on the 30th, regained the part of the 
river in question. Here the alluvial bottom was from one to 
two miles wide, and thickly covered with a forest of cotton- 
wood trees ; while herds of buffalo were scattered about the 
neighboring prairie, several of which soon fell beneath theii 
rifles. 

They encamped on the margin of the river, in a grove where 
there were trees large enough for canoes. Here they put up a 
shed for immediate shelter, and immediately proceeded to erect 
a hut. New Year's day dawned when, as yet, but one wall of 
their cabin was completed ; the genial and jovial day, however, 
was not permitted to pass uncelebrated, even by this weather- 
beaten crew of wanderers. All work was suspended, except 
that of roasting and boiling. The choicest of the buffalo meat, 
with tongues, and humps, and marrow bones, were devoured 
in quantities that would astonish any one that has not lived 
among hunters or Indians ; and as an extra regale, having no 
tobacco left, they cut up an old tobacco pouch, still redolent 
With the potent herb, and smoked it in honor of the day. Thus 
for a time, in present revelry, however uncouth, they forgot 
all past troubles and all anxieties about the future, and their 
forlorn wigwam echoed to the sound of gayety. 

The next day they resumed their labors, and by the 6th of 
the month it was complete. They soon killed abundance of 
buffalo, and again laid in a stock of winter provisions. 



ASTORIA. 321 

The party were more fortunate in tMs their second canton- 
ment. The winter passed away without any Indian visitors, 
and the game continued to be plenty in the neighborhood. 
They felled two large trees, and shaped them into canoes ; and, 
as the spring opened, and a thaw of several days' continuance 
melted the ice in the river, they made every preparation for 
embarking. On the 8th of March they launched forth in their- 
canoes, but soon found that the river had not depth sufficient 
tven for such slender barks. It expanded into a wide but ex- 
tremely shallow stream, with many sand-bars, and occasionally 
various chaimels. They got one of their canoes a few miles 
down it, with extreme difficulty, sometimes wading and drag- 
ging it over the shoals; at length they had to abandon the 
attempt, and to resume their journey on foot, aided by their 
faithful old pack-horse, who had recruited strength during 
the repose of the winter. 

The weather delayed them for a few days, having suddenly 
become more rigorous than it had been at any time during the 
winter ; but on the 20th of March they were again on their 
journey. 

In two days they arrived at the vast naked prairie, the win- 
try aspect of which had caused them, in December, to pause 
and turn back. It was now clothed in the early verdure of 
spring, and plentifully stocked with game, StiU, when obliged 
to bivouac on its bare surface, without any shelter, and by a 
scanty fire of dry buffalo dung, they found the night blasts 
piercing cold. On one occasion a herd of buffalo straying near 
their evening camp, they killed three of them merely for their 
hides, wherewith to make a shelter for the night. 

They continued on for upward of a hundred miles; with 
vast prairies extending before them as they advanced ; some- 
times diversified by undulating hiUs, but destitute of trees. 
In one place they saw a gang of sixty-five wild horses, but as 
to the buffaloes, they seemed absolutely to cover the country. 
Wild geese abounded, and they passed extensive swamps that 
were alive with innumerable flocks of water-fowl, among 
which were a few swans, but an endless variety of ducks. 

The river continued a winding course to the east-northeast, 
nearly a mile in width, but too shallow to float even an empty 
canoe. The country spread out into a vast level plain, bounded 
by the horizon alone, excepting to the north, where a line of 
hills seemed like a long promontory, stretching into the bosom 
of the ocean. The dreary sameness of the prairie wastes began 



322 ASTORIA. 

to grow extremely irksome. The travellers longed for the 
sight of a forest or grove, or single tree, to break the level uni- 
formity, and began to notice every object that gave reason to 
hope they were drawing toward the end of this weary wilder- 
ness. Thus the occurrence of a particular kind of grass was 
hailed as a proof that they could not be far from the bottoms 
of the Missouri; and they were rejoiced at putting up several 
prairie hens, a kind of grouse seldom found far in Lhe interior. 
In picking up drift-wood for fuel, also, they found on some 
pieces the mark of an axe, which caused much speculation as 
to the time when and the persons by whom the trees had been 
felled. Thus they went on like sailors at sea, who perceive in 
every floating weed and wandering bird, harbingers of the 
wished-for land. 

By the close of the month the weather became very mild, 
and, heavily burdened as they were, they found the noontide 
temperature uncomfortably warm. On the 30th, they came to 
three deserted hunting camps, either of Pawnees or Ottoes, 
about which were buffalo skulls in all directions; and the 
frames on which the hides had been stretched and cured. 
They had apparently been occupied the preceding autumn. 

For several days they kept patiently on, watching every 
sign that might give them an idea as to where they were, and 
how near to the "banks of the Missouri. 

Though there were numerous traces of hunting parties and 
encampments, they were not of recent date. The country 
seemed deserted. The only human beings they met with were 
three Pawnee squaws, in a hut in the midst of a deserted 
camp. Their people had all gone to the south, in pursuit of 
the buffalo, and had left these poor women behind, being too 
sick and infirm to travel. 

It is a common practice with the Pawnees, and probably 
with other roving tribes, when departing on a distant expedi- 
tion, which will not admit of incumbrance or delay, to leave 
their aged and infirm with a supply of provisions sufficient for 
a temporary subsistence. When this is exhausted they must 
perish; though sometimes their sufferings are abridged by 
hostile prowlers who may visit the deserted camp. 

Tlie poor squaws in question expected some such fate at the 
hands of the white strangers, and though the latter accosted 
them in the kindest manner, and made them presents of dried 
buffalo meat, it was impossible to soothe their alarm or get 
any information from them. 



ASTORIA. 323 

The first landmark by whicli the travellers were enabled to 
conjecture their position with any degree of confidence, was 
an island about seventy miles in length, which they presumed 
to be Grand Isle. If so, they were within one hundred and 
forty miles of the Missouri. They kept on, therefore, with 
renewed spii'it, and at the end of three days met with an Otto 
Indian, by whom they were confirmed in their conjecture. 
They learnt at the same time another piece of information, of 
an uncomfortable nature. According to his account, there 
was war between the United States and England, and in fact 
it had existed for a whole year, during which time they had 
been beyond the reach of all knowledge of the affairs of the 
civihzed world. 

The Otto conducted the travellers to his village, situated a 
short distance from the banks of the Platte. Here they were 
delighted to meet with two white men, Messrs. Dornin and Eoi, 
Indian traders recently from St. Louis. Of these they had a 
thousand inquiries to make concerning aU affairs, foreign and 
domestic, during their year of sepulture in the wilderness ; and 
especially about the events of the existing war. 

They now prepared to abandon their weary travel by land, 
and to embark upon the water. A bargain was made vv^ith 
Mr. Dornin, who engaged to furnish them with a canoe and 
provisions for the voyage, in exchange for their venerable and 
well-tried fellow-traveller, the old Snake horse. 

Accordingly, in a couple of days, the Indians employed by 
that gentleman constructed for them a canoe tvv^enty feet long, 
four feet wide, and eighteen inches deep. The frame was of 
poles and willow twigs, on which were stretched five elk and 
buffalo hides, sewed together with sinews, and the seams 
payed with unctuous mud. In this they embarked at an early 
hour on the 16th of April, and drifted down ten miles with the 
stream, when the wind being high they encamped, and set to 
work to make oars, which they had not been able to procure 
at the Indian village. 

Once more afloat, they went merrily clown the stream, and 
after making thirty-five miles, emerged into the broad turbid 
current of the Missouri. Here they were borne along briskly 
by the rai)id stream, though, by the time their fragile bark 
had fioated a couple of hundred miles, its frame began to show 
the effects of the voyage. Luckily they came to the deserted 
wintering place of some hunting part} , where they found two 
old wooden canoes. Taking possession of the largest, they 



324 ASTOllIA. 

again committed themselves to the current, and after dropping 
down fifty-five miles further, arrived safely at Fort Osage. 

Here they found Lieutenant Brownson still in command; the 
ofiicer who had given the expedition a hospitable reception on 
its way up the river, eighteen months previously. He re- 
ceived this remnant of the party with a cordial welcome, and 
endeavored in every way to promote their comfort and enjoy- 
ment during their sojourn at the fort. The greatest luxury 
they met with on their return to the abode of civilized man, 
was bread, not having tasted any for nearly a year. 

Their stay at Fort Osage was but short. On re-embarking 
they were furnished with an ample supply of provisions by the 
kindness of Lieutenant Brownson, and performed the rest of 
their voyage without adverse circumstance. On the 30th of 
April they arrived in perfect health and fine spirits at St. 
Louis, having been ten months in performing this perilous ex- 
pedition from Astoria. Their return caused quite a sensation 
at the place, bringing the first intelligence of the fortune of Mr. 
Hunt and his party in their adventurous route across the 
Eocky Mountains, and of the new establishment on the shores 
of the Pacific. 



CHAPTER LT. 



It is now necessary, in linking together the parts of this ex- 
cursive narrative, that we notice the proceedings of Mr. Astor, 
in support of his great undertaking. His project with respect 
to the Russian establishments along the northwest coast had 
been diligently prosecuted. The agent sent by him to St. 
Petersburgh, to negotiate in his name as president of the 
American Fur Company, had, under sanction of the Russian 
Government, made a provisional agreement with the Russian 
company. 

By this agreement, which was ratified by Mr. Astor in 1813, 
the two companies bound themselves not to interfere with 
each other's trading and hunting grounds, nor to furnish arms 
and ammunition to the Indians. They were to act in concert, 
also, against all interlopers, and to succor each other in case of 
danger. The American company was to have the exclusive 
right of supplying the Russian posts with goods and neces- 



ASTORIA. 325 

saries, receiving peltries in payment at stated prices. They 
were also, if so requested by the Russian governor, to convey 
the furs of the Russian company to Canton, sell them on com- 
mission, and bring back the proceeds, at such freight as might 
be agreed on at the time. This agreement was to continue in 
operation four years, and to be renewable for a similar term, 
unless some imf oreseen contingency should render a modifica- 
tion necessary. 

It was calculated to be of great service to the infant estab- 
lishment at Astoria; dispelling the fears of hostile rivalry on 
the part of the foreign companies in its neighborhood, and giv- 
ing a formidable blow to the irregular trade along the coast. 
It was also the intention of Mr. Astor to have coasting vessels 
of his own, at Astoria, of small tonnage and draft of water, 
fitted for coasting service. These having a place of shelter 
and deposit, could ply about the coast in short voyages, in 
favorable weather, and would have vast advantage over 
chance sliips, which must make long voyages, maintain numer- 
ous crews, and could only approach the coast at certain seasons 
of the year. He hoped, therefore, gradually to make Astoria 
the great emporium of the American fur trade in the Pacific, 
and the nucleus of a powerful American state. Unfortunately 
for these sanguine anticipations, before Mr. Astor had ratified 
the agreement, as above stated, war broke out between the 
United States and Great Britain. He perceived at once the 
peril of the case. The harbor of New York would doubtless 
be blockaded, and the departure of the annual supply ship in 
the autumn prevented ; or, if she should succeed in getting out 
to sea, she might be captured on her voyage. 

In this emergency, he wrote to Captain Sowle, commander 
of the Beaver. The letter, which was addressed to him at Can- 
ton, directed him to proceed to the factory at the mouth of the 
Columbia, with such articles as the establishment might need ; 
and to remain there, subject to the orders of Mr. Hunt, should 
that gentleman be in command there. 

The war continued, no tidings had yet been received from 
Astoria ; the dispatches having been delayed by the misadven- 
ture of Mr. Reed at the falls of the Columbia, and the unhors- 
ing of Mr. Stuart by the Crows among the mountains. A pain- 
ful uncertainty, also, prevailed about Mr. Hunt and his party. 
Nothing had been heard of them since their departure from 
the Arickara village; Lisa, who parted them there, had pre- 
dicted their destruction ; and some of the traders of the North- 



326 ASTORIA. 

west Company had actually spread a rumor of tlieir having 
been cut oif by the Indians. 

It was a hard trial of the courage and means of an individ- 
ual, to have to fit out another costly expedition, where so 
much haa already been expended, so much uncertainty pre- 
vailed, and where the risk of loss was so greatly enhanced, that 
no insurance could be effected. 

In spite of all these discouragements, Mr. Astor determined 
to send another ship to the relief of the settlement. He 
selected ior this purpose a vessel called the Lark, remarkable 
for her fast sailing. The disordered state of the times, how- 
ever, caused such a delay, that February arrived, while the 
vessel was yet lingering in port. 

At this juncture Mr. Astor learnt that the Northwest Com- 
pany were preparing to send out an armed ship of twenty 
guns, called the Isaac Todd, to foi'm an establishment at the 
mouth of the Columbia. These tidings gave him great uneasi- 
ness. A considerable proportion of the persons in his employ 
were Scotchmen and Canadians, and several of them had been 
in the service of the Northwest Company. Should Mr. Hunt 
have failed to arrive at Astoria, the whole establishment would 
be under the control of Mr. M'Dougal, of whose fidelity he had 
received very disparaging accounts from Captain Thorn. The 
British Government, also, might deem it worth while to send a 
force against the establishment, having been urged to do so 
some time previously by the Northwest Company. 

Under all these circumstances, Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Mon- 
roe, then Secretary of State, requesting protection from the 
Government of the United States. He represented the import- 
ance of this settlement, in a commercia] point of view, and the 
shelter it might afford to the American vessels in those seas. 
All he asked was, that the American Government would throw 
forty or fifty men into the fort at his establishment, which 
would be sufficient for its defence, until he could send rein- 
forcements overland. 

He waited in vain for a reply to his letter, the Government, 
no doubt, being engrossed at the time, by an overwhehning 
crowd of affairs. The month of March arrived, and the Lark 
was ordered by Mr. Aster to put to sea. The officer who was 
to command her shrunk from his engagement, and in the ex- 
igency of the moment she was given in charge to Mr. North- 
rop, the mate. Mr. Nicholas G. Ogden, a gentlemen on whose 
talents and integrity the highest reliance could be placed, sailed 



ASTORIA. 327 

as supercargo. The Lark put to sea in the beginning of March, 
1813. 

By this opportunity Mr. Astor wrote to Mr. Hunt, as head 
of the establishment at the mouth of the Columbia, for he 
would not allow himself to doubt of his welfare. "I always 
think you are well," said he, " and that I shall see you again, 
which heaven, I hope, will grant." 

He warned him to be on his guard against any attempts to 
surprise the t)ost ; suggesting the probability of armed hostihty 
on the part of the Northwest Company, and expressing his in- 
dignation at the ungrateful returns made by that association 
for his frank and open conduct, and advantageous overtures, 
" Were I on the spot," said he, "and had the management of 
affairs, I would defy them aU; but, as it is, everything de- 
pends upon you and your friends about you. Our enterprise 
is grand, and deserves success, and I hope in God it imll meet 
it. If my object was merely gain of money, I should say, 
think whether it is best to save what we can, and abandon the 
place ; hut the very idea is like a dagger to my heart. '^ This ex~ 
tract is sufficient to show the spirit and the views which actu- 
ated Mr. Astor in this great undertaking. 

Week after week and month after month elapsed, without 
anything to dispel the painful incertitude that hung over every 
part of this enterprise. Though a man of resolute spirit, and 
not easily cast down, the dangers impending over this darling 
scheme of liis ambition, had a gradual effect upon the spirits of 
Mr. Astor. He was sitting one gloomy evening by his window 
revolving over the loss of the Tonquin, and the fate of her un- 
fortunate crew, and fearing that some equally tragical calami- 
ty might have befallen the adventurers across the mountains, 
when the evening newspaper was brought to him. The first 
paragraph that caught his eye, announced the arrival of Mr. 
Stuart and his party at St. Louis, with intelligence that Mr. 
Hunt and his companions had effected their perilous expedi- 
tion to the mouth of the Columbia. This was a gleam of sun- 
shine that for a time dispelled every cloud, and he now looked 
forward with sanguine hope to the accomplishment of all his 
plans. 



328 ASTOllIA. 



CHAPTER LII. 

' l^HE course of our narrative now takes us back to the regions 
beyond the mountains, to dispose of the parties that set out 
from Astoria in company with Mr. Robert Stuart, and whom 
he left on the banks of the Wallah-Wallah. Those pai'ties like- 
wise separated from each other shortly after his departure, 
proceeding to their respective destinations, but agreeing to 
meet at the mouth of the Wallah-Wallah, about the beginning 
of June in the following year, with such peltries as they should 
have collected in the interior, so as to convoy each other 
through the dangerous passes of the Columbia. 

Mr. David Stuart, one of the partners, proceeded with his 
men to the post already established by him at the mouth of the 
Oakinagan; having furnished this with goods and ammuni- 
tion, he proceeded three hundred miles up that river, where he 
established another post in a good trading neighborhood. 

Mr. Clarke, another partner, conducted his little band up 
Lewis River to the mouth of a smaU stream coming in from 
the north, to which the Canadianc gave the name of the Pav- 
ion. Here he found a village or encampment of forty hnts or 
tents, covered with mats, and inhabited by Nez Peires, or 
pierced-nose Indians, as they are called by the traders; but 
Chipunnish, as they are called by themselves. They are a 
hardy, laborious, and somewhat knavish race, who lead a pre- 
carious life, fishing and digging roots during the summer and 
autumn, hunting the deer on snow shoes during the winter, 
and traversing the Rocky iMountains in the spring, to trade for 
buffalo skins with the hunting tribes of the Missouri. In these 
migrations they are liable to be waylaid and attacked by the 
Blackfeet, and other warlike and predatory tribes, and driven 
back across the mountains with the loss of their horses, and of 
many of their comrades. 

A life of this unsettled and precarious kind is apt to render 
men selfish, and such Mr. Clarke found the inhabitants of this 
village, Avho Avere deficient in the usual hospitality of Indians; 
parting with everything with extreme reluctance, and showing 
no sensibility to any act of kindness. At the time of his ar- 
rival they were all occupied in catching and curing salmon. 



ASTORIA. 329 

The men were stout, robust, active, and good looking, and the 
women handsomer than those oi; the tribes nearer the coast. 

It was the plan of Mr. Clarke to lay up his boats here, and 
proceed by land to his place of destination, which was among 
the Spokan tribe of Indians, about a hundred and fifty miles 
distant. He accordingly endeavored to purchase horses for 
the journey, but in this he had to contend with the sordid dis- 
position of these people. They asked high prices for their 
horses, and were so difficult to deal with, that Mr. Clarke was 
detained seven days among them before he could procure a 
sufiicient number. During that time he was annoyed by re- 
peated pilferings, for which he could get no redress. The chief 
promised to recover the stolen articles ; but failed to do so, al- 
leging that the thieves belonged to a distant tribe, and had 
made off with their booty. With ^this excuse Mr. Clarke was 
fain to content himself, though he laid up in his heart a bitter 
grudge against the whole pierced-nose race which as will be 
found he took occasion subsequently to gratify in a signal 
manner. 

Having made arrangements for his departure, Mr. Clarke 
laid up his barge and canoes in a sheltered place, on the banks 
of a small bay, overgrown with shrubs and willows, confiding 
them to the care of the Nez Perce chief, who, on being prom- 
ised an ample compensation, engaged to have a guardian eye 
upon them ; then mounting his steed, and putting himself at 
the head of his little caravan, he shook the dust off his feet as 
he turned his back upon this village of rogues and hard deal- 
ers. We shall not follow him minutely in his journey ; which 
lay at times over steep and rocky hills, and among crags and 
precipices ; at other times over vast naked and sunburnt plains, 
abounding with rattlesnakes, in traversing which, both men and 
horses suffered intolerably from heat and thirst. The place on 
which he fixed for a trading post, was a fine point of land, at 
the junction of the Pointed Heart and Spokan Rivers. His es- 
tablishment was intended to compete with a trading post of the 
Northwest Company, situated at no great distance, and to 
rival it in the trade with the Spokan Indians ; as well as with 
the Cootonais and Flatheads. In this neighborhood we shaU 
leave him for the present. 

Mr. M'Kenzie, who conducted the third party from the Wa^ 
lah-Wallah, navigated for several days up the south branch of 
the Columbia, named the Camoenum by the natives, but com.' 
monly called Lewis River, in honor of the first exp?oror. Wan* 



330 ASTORIA. 

dering bands of various tribes were seen along this ri-rer, trav. 
elling in various directions; for the Indians generally are 
restless, roving beings, continually intent on enterprises of 
war, traffic, and hunting. Some of these people were driving 
large gangs of horses, as if to a distant market. Having ar- 
rived at the mouth of the Shahaptan, he ascended some dis- 
tance up that river, and established his trading post upon its 
banks. This appeared to be a great thoroughfare for the tribes 
from the neighborhood of the falls of the Columbia, in their 
expeditions to make war upon the tribes of the Rocky Moun- 
tains; to hunt buffalo on the plains beyond, or to traffic for 
roots and buffalo robes. It was the season of migration, and 
the Indians from various distant parts were passing and re- 
passing in great numbers. 

Mr, M'Kenzie now detached a small band, under the con- 
duct ot Mr. John Reed, to visit the caches made by Mr. Hun-f 
at the Caldron Linn, and to bring the contents to his post, %« 
he depended in some measure on them for his supplies of goods 
and ammunition. They had not been gone a week when two 
Indians arrived of the Pallatapalla tribe, who live upon ^ river 
of the same name. These communicated the unwelcome in- 
telligence that the caches had been robbed. They said that 
some of their tribe had, in the course of the preceding spring, 
been across the mountains which separated them from Snake 
River, and had traded horses with the Snakes in exchange for 
blankets, robes, and goods of various descriptions. These arti- 
cles the Snakes had procured from caches to which they were 
guided by some white men who resided among them, and who 
afterward accompanied them across the Rocky Mountains. 
This intelligence was extremely perplexing to Mr, M'Kenzie, 
but the truth of part of it was confirmed by the two Indians, 
who brought them an English saddle and bridle, which was 
recognized as having belonged to Mr. Crooks. The perfidy of 
the white men who revealed the secret of the caches, was, 
however, perfectly inexplicable. We shall presently account 
for it in narrating the expedition of Mr. Reed. 

That worthy Hiberiaian proceeded on his mission with his 
usual alacrity. His forlorn travels of the preceding winter 
had made him acquainted with the topography of the country, 
and he reached Snake River without any material difficulty. 
Here in an encampment of tlie natives, he met with six white 
men, wanderers from the main expedition of Mr. Hunt, who, 
after having had their respective shares of adventures and 



ASTORIA. 331 

mishaps, had fortunately come together at this p2ace. Three 
of these men were Turcotte, La Chapelle, and Francis Landry ; 
the three Canadian voyageurs, who, it may be recollected, had 
left Mr. Crooks in February, in the neighborhood of Snake 
River, being dismayed by the increasing hardships of the jour- 
ney, and fearful of perishing of hunger. They had returned 
to a Snake encampment, where they pasced the residue of the 
winter. 

Early in the spring, being utterly destitute, and in great ex- 
tremity, and having worn out the hospitality of the Snakes, 
they determined to avail themselves of the buried treasures 
within their knowledge. They accordingly informed the 
Snake chieftains that they knew where a great quantity of 
goods had been left in caches, enough to enrich the whole 
tribe; and offered to conduct them to the place, on condi- 
tion of being rewarded with horses and jjrovisions. The chief- 
tains pledged their faith and honor as great men and Snakes, 
and the three Canadians conducted them to the place of de- 
posit at the Caldron Linn. This is the way that the savages 
got knowledge of the caches, and not by following the tracks 
of wolves, as Mr. Stuart had supposed. Never did money dig- 
gers turn*up a miser's hoard with more eager delight than did 
the savages lay open the treasures of the caches. Blankets 
and robes ; brass trinkets and blue beads were drawn forth 
with chuckling exultation, and long strips of scarlet cloth pro- 
duced yells of ecstasy. 

The rifling of the caches effected a change in the fortunes 
and deportment of the whole party. The Snakes were better 
equipped and clad than ever were Snakes before, and the three 
Canadians, suddenly finding themselves with horse to ride and 
weapon to wear, were, like beggars on horseback, ready to 
ride on any wild scamper. An opportunity soon presented. 
The Snakes determined on a hunting match on the buffalo 
prairies, to Isij in a supply of beef, that they might live in 
plenty, as became men of tlieir improved condition. The 
three newly mounted cavaliers must fain accon:ipany them. 
They all traversed the Rocky Mountains in safety, descended 
to the head waters of the Missouri, and made great havoc 
among the buffaloes. 

Their hunting camp was full of meat; they were gorging 
themselves, like true Indians, with present plenty, and dry- 
ing and jerking great quantities for a winter's supply. In the 
midst of their revelry and good cheer, the camp was surprised 



332 ASTORIA. 

by the Blackfeet. Several of the Snakes were slain on the 
spot ; the residue, with their three Canadian alHes, fled to the 
mountains, stripped of horses, buffalo meat, everything; and 
made their way back to the old encampment on Snake River, 
poorer than ever, but esteeming themselves fortunate in hav- 
ing escaped with their lives. They had not been long there 
when the Canadians were cheered by the sight of a companion 
in misfortune, Dubreuil, the poor voyageur who had left Mr„ 
Crooks in March, being too much exhausted to keep on with 
him. Not long afterward, three other straggling members of 
the main expedition made their appearance. These were Car- 
son, St. Michael, and Pierre Delaunay, three of the trappers, 
who, in company with Pierre Detaye, had been left among the 
mountains by ]\Ir. Hunt, to trap beaver, in the preceding 
month of September. They had departed from the main 
body well armed and provided, with horses to ride, and 
horses to carry the peltries they were to collect. They came 
wandering into the Snake camp as ragged and destitute as 
their predecessors. It appears that they had finished their 
trapping, and were making their way in the spring to the 
Missouri, when they were met and attacked by a powerful 
band of the all-pervading Crows. They made a desperate re- 
sistance, and killed seven of the savages, but were overpov/- 
ered by numbers. Pierre Detaye was slain, the rest were 
robbed of horses and effects, and obliged to turn back, when 
they fell in with their old companions, as already mentioned. 

We should observe, that at the heels of Pierre Delaunay 
came draggling an Indian wife, whom he had picked up in his 
wanderings; having grown weary of celibacy among the sav- 
ages. 

The whole seven of this forlorn fraternity of adventurers, 
thus accidentally congregated on the banks of Snake River, 
were making arrangements once more to cross the mountains, 
when some Indian scouts brought word of the approach of the 
little band headed by John Reed. 

The latter, having heard the several stories of these wander- 
ers, took them all into his party, and set out for the Caldron 
Linn, to clear out two or three of the caches wliich had not 
been revealed to the Indians. 

At that place he met with Robinson, the Kentucky veteran, 
who with his two comrades, Rezner and Hoback, had remained 
there when Mr. Stuart went on. This adventurous trio had 
been trapping higher up the river, but Robinson had come 



ASToniA. 333 

down in a canoe, to await the expected arrival of the party, 
and obtain horses and equipments. He told Reed the story of 
the robbery of his party by the Arapahays, but it differed, in 
some particulars, from the account given by huii to Mr. Stuart. 
In that he had represented Cass as having shamefully deserted 
his companions in their extremity, carrying off with him a 
horse ; in the one now given he spoke of him as having been 
killed in the affray with the Arapahays. This discrepancy, of 
which, of course. Reed could have had no knowledge at tho 
time, concurred with other circumstances, to occasion after- 
ward some mysterious speculations and dark surmises, as to 
the real fate of Cass ; but as no substantial grounds were ever 
adduced for them, we forbear to throw any deeper shades into 
this story of sufferings in the wilderness. 

Mr. Reed having gathered the remainder of the goods from 
the caches, put himself at the head of his party, now augmented 
by the seven men thus casually picked up, and the squaw of 
Pierre Delaunay, and made his way successfully to M'Kenzie's 
Post, on the waters of the Shahaptan. 



CHAPTER LHI. 



After the departure of the different detachments or brigades, 
as they are called by the fur traders, the Beaver prepared for 
her voyage along the coast, and her visit to the Russian estab- 
lishment, at New Archangel, where she was to carry supplies. 
It had been determined in the council of partners at Astoria, 
that Mr. Hunt should embark in this vessel, for the purpose of 
acquaintin.r; himself with the coasting trade, and of making 
arrangements with the commander of the Russian post, and 
that he should be relandcd in October, at Astoria, by the 
Beaver, on her way to the Sandwich Islands, and Canton. 

The Beaver put to sea in the month of August. Her depart- 
ure, and that of the various brigades, left the fortress of Astoria 
but Slightly garrisoned. This was soon perceived by some of 
the Indian tribes, and the consequence was increased insolence 
of deportment, and a disposition to hostility. It was now the 
fishing season, when the tribes from the northern coast drew 
into the neighborhood of the Columbia. These were warlike 
and perfidious in their dispositions; and noted for their at- 



334 ASTOniA. 

tempts to surprise trading ships. Among them were numbers 
of the Neweetees. the ferocious tribe that massacred the crew 
of the Tonquin. 

Great i)recautions, therefore, were taken at the factory to 
guard, against surprise while these dangerous intruders were 
in the vicinity. Galleries were constructed inside of the pali- 
sades ; the bastions were heightened, and sentinels were posted 
day and night. Fortunately, the Chinooks and other tribes 
resident in the vicinity manifested the most pacific disposition. 
Old Comcomly, who held sway over them, was a shrewd calcu- 
lator. He was aware of the advantages of having the whites 
as neighbors and allies, and of the consequence derived to him- 
self and his people from acting as intermediate traders between 
them and the distant tribes. He had, therefore, by this time, 
become a firm friend of the Astorians, and formed a kind of 
barrier between them and the hostile intruders from the north. 

The sununer of 1812 passed away without any of the hostih- 
ties that had been apprehended; the Neweetees, and other 
dangerous visitors to the neighborhood, finished their fishing 
and returned home, and the inmates of the factory once more 
felt secure from attack. 

It now became necessary to guard against other evils. The 
season of scarcity arrived, which commences in October, and 
lasts until the end of January'-. To provide for the support of 
the garrison, the shallop was employed to forage about the 
shores of the river. A number of the men, also, under the com- 
mand of some of the clerks, were sent to quarter themselves 
on the banks of the Wollamut (the Multnomah of Lewis and 
Clarke), a fine river which disembogues itself into the Columbia, 
about sixty miles above Astoria. The country bordering on 
the river is finely diversified with prairies and hills, and forests 
of oak, asli, maple, and cedar. It abounded, at that time, with 
elk and deer, and the streams were well stocked with beaver. 
Hero the party, ai"ter supplying their own wants, were enabled 
to pack up quantities of dried^'meat, and send it by canoes to 
Astoria. 

The month of October elapsed without the return of the 
Beaver. November, December, January, passed away, and 
still nothing was seen or heard of her. Gloomy apprehensions 
now began to be entertained ; she might have been wrecked in 
the course of her coasting voyage, or surprised, like the Ton- 
quin, by some of the treacherous tribes of the north. 

No one indulged more in these aj^prehensions than M'Dougal, 



ASTORIA. 335 

who had now the charge of the establishment. He no longer 
evinced the bustling confidence and buoyancy which once 
characterized him. Connnand seemed to have lost its charms 
for him, or rather, he gave way to the most abject despond- 
ency, decrying tha whole enterprise, magnifying every un- 
toward circumstance, and foreboding nothing but evil. 

While in this moody state, he was surprised, on the 16th of 
January, by the sudden appearance of M'Kenzie, wayworn and 
weather-beaten by a long wintry journey from his post on the 
Shahaptan, and with a face the very frontispiece for a volume 
of misfortune. M'Kenzie had been heartily disgusted and dis- 
appointed at his post. It was in the midst of the Tushepaws, 
a powerful and warlike nation, divided into many tribes, 
under different chiefs, who possessed innumerable horses, but, 
not having turned their attention to beaver trapping, had no 
furs to offer. According to M'Kenzie they were but a ' ' rascally 
tribe;" from which we may infer that they were prone to con- 
sult their own interests, more than comported with the inter- 
ests of a greedy Indian trader. 

Game being scarce, he was obliged to rely, for the most part, 
on horse-flesh for subsistence, and the Indians discovering his 
necessities, adopted a policy usual in civilized trade, and raised 
the price of horses to an exorbitant rate, knowing that he and 
his men must eat or die. In this way, the goods he had 
brought to trade for beaver skins, were hkely to be bartered 
for horse-flesh, and all the proceeds devoured upon the spot. 

He had dispatched trappers in various directions, but the 
country around did not offer more beaver than his own sta- 
tion. In this emergency he began to think of abandoning his 
unprofitable post, sending his goods to the posts of Clarke and 
David Stuart, who could make a better use of them, as they 
were in a good beaver country, and returning with his party 
to Astoria, to seek some better destination. With this viev/, 
he repaired to the post of Mr. Clarke, to hold a consultation. 
While the two partners were in conference in Mr. Clarke's 
wigw^am, an unexpected visitor came bustling in upon them. 

Tliis was Mr. John George M'Tavish, a partner of the North- 
west Company, who had charge of the rival trading posts 
established in that neighborhood. Mr. M'Tavish was the de- 
lighted messenger of bad news. He had been to Lake W^inni- 
peg, where he received an express from Canada, containing 
the declaration of war, and President Madison's proclamation, 
which he handed with the most officious complaisance to 



336 ASTORIA. 

Messrs. Clarke and M'Eenzie. He moreover told them that ho 
had received a fresh supply of goods from the northwest posts 
on the other side of the Rocky Mountains, and was prepared 
for vigorous opposition to the establishment of the American 
Company. He capped tl?e climax of this obliging, but bellig- 
erent intelligence, by informuig them that the armed ship, 
Isaac Todd, was to be at the mouth of the Columbia about the 
beginning of March, to get posses'^ion of the trade of the river, 
and that he was ordered to join her there at that time. 

The receipt of this news determined M'Kenzie. He imme- 
diately returned to the Shahaptan, broke up his establishment, 
deposited his goods in cache, and hastened, with all his people, 
to Astoria. 

The intelligence thus brought, completed tl^e dismay oi 
M'Dougal, and seemed to produce a complete copfusion of 
mind. He held a council of war with M'Kenzie, at which 
some of the clerks were present, but of course had no votes. 
They gave up all hope of maintaining their post at Astoria. 
The Beaver had probably been lost ; they could receive n(> aid 
from the United States, as all ports would be blockaded. 
From England nothing could be expected but hostility. It 
was determined, therefore, to abandon the establishment in 
the course of the following spring, and return across the Rocky 
Mountains. 

In pursuance of this resolution, they suspended all trade 
with the natives, except for provisions, having already more 
peltries than they could carry away, and having need of all 
the goods for the clothing and subsistence of their people 
during the remainder of their sojourn, and on their journey 
across the mountains. Their intention of abandoning Astoria 
was, however, kept secret from the men, lest they should at 
once give up all labor, and become restless and insubordinate. 

In the meantime, M'Kenzie set off for his post at the Sha- 
haptan, to get his goods from the caches, and buy horses and 
provisions with them for the caravan across the mountains. 
He was charged with dispatches from M'Dougal to Messrs. 
Stuart and Clarke, apprizing them of the intended migration;, 
that they might make timely preparations. 

M'Kenzie was accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. John 
Reed, the Irishman, and Mr. Alfred Seton, of New York. 
They embarked in two canoes, manned by seventeen men, and 
ascended the river without any incident of importance, until 
they arrived in the eventful neighborhood of the rapids. They 



ASTORIA. 337 

made the portage of the nari-ows and the falls early in the 
afternoon, and, having x^artaken of a scanty meal, had now a 
long evening on their hands. 

On the opposite side of the river lay the village of "Wish- 
ram, of freebooting renown. Here lived the savages who had 
robbed and maltreated Eeed, v/hen bearing his tin box of 
dispatches. It was known that the rifle of wbicn he was 
despoiled was retained as a trophy at the vihage. M'Kenzie 
offered to cross the river, and demand the rifle, if any one 
would a.ccoRipany him. It Avas a hair-brained project, for 
these villages were noted for the ruffian character of their 
inhabitants; yet two volunteers promptly stepped forward; 
Alfred Seton, the clerk, and Joe de la Pierre, the cook. The 
trio soon reached the opposite side of the river. On landing 
they freshly primed their rifles and pistols. A path winding 
for about a hundred yards among rocks and crags, led to the 
village. No notice seemed to be taken of their approach. Not 
a solitary bemg, man, wom^an, or child greeted them. The 
very dogs, those noisy pests cf an Indian town, kept silence. 
On entering the village, a boy made his appearance, and 
pointed to a house of larger dimensions than the rest. They 
had to stoop to enter it ; as soon as they had pas£:ed the thresh- 
old, the narrow passage behind them was filled up by a sudden 
rush of Indians, who had before kept out of sight. 

M'Kenzie and his companions found themselves in a rude 
chamber of about twenty-five feet long, and twenty wide. A 
bright fire was blazing at one end, near which sat the chief, 
about sixty years old. A large number of Indians, wrapped 
in buffalo robes, were squatted in rows, three deep, forming a 
semicircle round three sides of the room. A single glance 
around sufficed to show them the grim and dangerous assem- 
bly into which they had intruded, and that all retreat was cut 
off by the mass which blocked up the entrance. 

The chief pointed to the vacant side of the room opposite to 
the door, and motioned for them to take tlicir seats. They 
complied. A dead pause ensued. The grim warriors around 
sat like statues ; each muffled in his robe, with his fierce eyes 
bent on the intruders. The latter felt they were in a perilous 
predicament. 

'^Keeiy your eyes on the chief while I am a,ddressiiig him," 
said M'Kenzie to his companions. ' ' Should he give any sigir 
to his band, shoot him, and make for the door." 

M'Kenzie advanced, and ofcered the pipe of i>eace to ths 



338 ASTORIA. 

chief, but it was refused. He then made a regular speech, 
explaining the object of their visit, and proposing to give in 
exchange for the rifle two blankets, an axe, some beads, and 
tobacco. 

When he had done the chief rose, began to address him in a 
low voice, but soon became loud and violent, and ended by 
working himself up into a furious passion. He upbraided the 
white men for their sordid conduct in passing and repassing 
through their neighborhood, ^vithout giving them a blanket 
or any other article of goods, merely because they had no 
furs to barter in exchange ; and he alluded with menaces of 
vengeance, to the death of the Indian killed by the whites in 
the skirmish at the falls. 

Matters were verging to a crisis. It was evident the sur- 
rounding savages were only waiting a signal from the chief to 
spring upon their prey. M'Kenzie and his companions had 
gradually risen on their feet during the speech, and had 
brought their rifles to a horizontal position, the barrels resting 
in their left hands ; the muzzle of M'Kenzie's piece was within 
tliree feet of the speaker's heart. They cocked their rifles ; the 
click of the locks for a moment suffused the dark cheek of the 
savage, and there was a pause. They coolly, but promptly ad- 
vanced to the door ; the Indians fell back in awe, and suffered 
them to pass. The sun was just setting as they emerged from 
this dangerous den. They took the precaution to keep along 
the tops of the rocks as much as possible on their way back to 
the canoe, and reached their camp in safety, congratulating 
themselves on their escape, and feeling no desire to make a 
second visit to the grim warriors of Wish-ram. 

M'Kenzie and his party resumed their journey the next 
morning. At some distance above the falls of the Columbia, 
they observed two bark canoes, filled with white men, coming 
down the river, to the full chant of a s^t of Canadian voy- 
ageurs. A parley ensued. It was a detachment of north- 
westers, under the command of Mr. John George M'Tavish, 
bound, full of song and spirit, to the mouth of the Columbia, 
to await the arrival of the Isaac Todd. 

Mr. M'Kenzie and M'Tavish came to a halt, and landing, en- 
camped together for the night. The voyageurs of either party 
hailed each other as brothers, and old " comrades, " and they 
mingled together as if united by one common interest, instead 
of belonging to rival companies, and trading under hostile 
flags. 



ASTORIA. 339 

In the morning they proceeded on their different ways, in 
style corresponding to their different fortunes, the one toiling 
painfully against the stream, the other sweeping down gayly 
with the current. 

M'Kenzie arrived safely at his deserted post on the Shahap- 
tan, but found, to his chagrin, that liis caches had been dis- 
covered and rifled by the Indians. Here was a dilemma, for 
on the stolen goods he had depended to purchase horses of the 
Indians. He sent out men in all directions to endeavor to 
discover the thieves, and dispatched Mr. Reed to the posts of 
Messrs. Clarke and David Stuart, with the letters of Mr. 
M'Dougal. 

The resolution announced in these letters, to break up and 
depart from Astoria, was condenmed by both Clarke and 
Stuart. These two gentlemen had been very successful at their 
posts, and considered it rash and pusillanunous to abandon, on 
the first difficulty, an enterprise of such great cost and ample 
promise. They made no arrangements, therefore, for leaving 
the country, but acted with a view to the maintenance of their 
new and prosperous establishments. 

The regular tune approached, when the partners of the in- 
terior posts were to rendezvous at the mouth of the Wallah- 
Wallah, on their way to Astoria, with the peltries they had 
collected. Mr. Clarke accordingly packed all his furs on 
twenty-eight horses, and leaving a clerk and four men to 
take charge of the post, departed on the 25th of May with the 
residue of his force. 

On the 30th he arrived at the confluence of the Pavion and 
Lewis Rivers, where he had left his barge and canoes, in the 
guardianship of the old Pierced-nose chieftain. That dignitary 
had acquitted hhnself more faithfully of his charge than Mr. 
Clarke had expected, and the canoes were found in very tol- 
erable order. Some repairs were necessary, and while they 
were making, the party encamped close by the village. 
Having had repeated and vexatious proofs of the pilfering pro- 
pensities of this tribe during his former visit, Mr. Clarke 
ordered that a wary eye should be kept upon them. 

He was a tall, good-looking man, and somewhat given to 
pomp and circumstance, which made him an object of note in 
the eyes of the wondering savages. Ho was stately, too, in his 
appointments, and had a silver goblet or drinking cup, out of 
which he would drink with a magnificent air, and then lock it 
up in a largo garde vin, which accompanied him in his travels, 



340 ASTORIA. 

and stood in his tent. TMs goblet had originally been sent as a 
present from Mr. Astor to Mr. M'Kay, the partner who had 
unfortunately been blown up in the Tonquin. As it reached 
Astoria after the departure of that gentleman, it had remained 
in the possession of Mr. Clarke. 

A silver goblet was too glittering a prize not to catch the 
eye of a Pierced-nose. It was like the shining tin case of John 
Reed. Such a wonder had never been seen in the land before. 
The Indians talked about it to one another. They marked the 
care with which it was deposited in the garde vm, like a relic 
in its shrine, and concluded that it must be a " great medi- 
cine." That night Mr. Clarke neglected to lock up his treasure; 
in the morning the sacred casket was open — the precious relic 
gone ! 

Clarke was now outrageous. All the past vexations that he 
had suffered from this pilfering community rose to mmdj and 
he threatened that, unless the goblet was promptly returned, 
he would hang the thief should he eventually discover him. 
The day passed away, however, without the restoration of 
the cup. At night sentinels were secretly posted about the 
camp. With all their vigilance a Pierced-nose contrived to 
get into the camp unperceived, and to load himself with booty ; 
it was only on his retreat that he was discovered and taken. 

At daybreak the culprit was brought to trial, and promptly 
convicted. He stood responsible for all the spoliations of the 
camp, the precious goblet among the number, and Mr. Clarke 
passed sentence of death upon him. 

A gibbet was accordingly constructed of oars ; the chief of 
the village and his people were assembled and the culprit was 
produced, with his legs and arms pinioned. Clarke then made 
a harangue. He reminded the tribe of the benefits he had be- 
stowed upon them during his former visits, and the many 
thefts and other misdeeds which he had overlooked. The 
prisoner especially had always been peculiarly well treated by 
the white men, but had repeatedly been guilty of pilfering. 
He was to be punished for his own misdeeds, and as a warning 
to his tribe. 

The Indians now gathered round Mr. Clarke and interceded 
for the culprit. Tliev were willing he should be punished 
severely, but implored that his life might be spared. The com- 
panions, too, of Mr. Clarke considered the sentence too severe, 
and advised him to mitigate it ; but he was inexorable. Ho 
was not naturally a stern or cruel man ; but from his boyhood 



ASTOniA. 341 

he had lived in the Indian country among Indian traders, and 
held the life of a savage extremely cheap. He was, moreover, 
a firm believer in the doctrine of intimidation. 

Farnham, a clerk, a tall "Green Mountain boy" from Ver- 
mont, who had been robbed of a pistol, acted as executioner. 
The signal was given, and the poor Pierced-nose, resisting, 
struggling, and screaming, in the most frightful manner, was 
launched into eternity. The Indians stood round gazing in 
silence and mute awe, but made no attempt to oppose the exe- 
cution, nor testified any emotion when it was over. They 
locked up their feehngs within their bosoms until an oppor- 
tunity should arrive to gratify them with a bloody act of 
vengeance. 

To say nothing of the needless severity of this act, its im^ 
policy was glaringly obvious. Mr. M'Lennan and three men 
were to return to the post with the horses, their loads having 
been transferred to the canoes. They would have to pass 
through a tract of country infested by this tribe, who were all 
horsemen and hard riders, and might pursue them to take 
vengeance for the death of their comrade. M'Lennan, however, 
was a resolute fellow, and made light of all dangers. He and 
his three men were present at the execution, and set off as soon 
as life was extinct in the victim ; but, to use the words of one 
of their comrades, "they did not let the grass grow under the 
heels of their horses, as they clattered out of the Pierced-nose 
country," and were glad to find themselves in safety at the 
post. 

Mr. Clarke and his party embarked about the same time in 
their canoes, and early on the following day reached the 
mouth of the Wallah- Wallah, where they found Messrs. Stuart 
and M'Kenzae awaiting them ; the latter having recovered ijart 
of the goods stolen from his cache. Clarke informed them 
of the signal punishment he had inflicted on the Pierced-nose, 
evidently expecting to excite their admii-ation by such a hardy 
act of justice, performed in the very midst of the Indian coun- 
try, but was mortified at finding it strongly censured as inhu- 
man, unnecessary, and likely to provoke hostilities. 

The parties thus united formed a squadron of two boats and 
six canoes, with which they performed tlieir voyage in safety 
down the river, and arrived at A^itoria on the 12th of June, 
bringing with them a valuable stock of peltries. 

About ten days previously, the brigade which had been 
quartered on the banks of the Wollamut, had arrived with 



342 ASToniA. 

nnniorouiB packs of beaver, the result of a fev/ months' sojourn 
on that river. These were the first fruits of the enterprise, 
gathered by men as yet mere strangers in the land ; but they 
vv^ere such as to give substantial grounds for sanguine antici- 
pations of profit, when the country should be more completely 
exploredj and the trade established. 



CHAPTER LIV. 



The partners found Mr. M'Dougal in all the bustle of prepa- 
ration; having about nine days previously announced at the 
factory, hij intention of breaking up the establishment, and 
fixed upon the 1st of July for the time of departure. Messi's. 
Stuart and Clarke felt highly displeased at his taking so pre- 
cipitate a step, without waiting for their concurrence, when he 
must have known that their arrival could not be far distant. 

Indeed, the whole conduct of Mr. M'Dougal was such as to 
awaken strong doubts as to his loyal devotion to the cause. 
His old sympathies with the Northwest Company seemed to 
have revived. He had received ]\I'Tavish and his party with 
uncalled-for hospitality, as though they were friends and alHes, 
instead of being a party of observation, come to reconnoitre 
the state of affairs at Astoria, and to av/ait the arrival of a 
hostile ship. Had they been left to themselves, they would 
have been starved off for want of provisions, or driven away 
by the Chinooks, who only wanted a signal from the factory 
to treat them as intruders and enemies. M'Dougal, on the con- 
trary, had supplied them from the stores of the garrison, and 
had gained them the favor of the Indians, by treating them as 
friends. 

Having set his mind fixedly on the project of breaking up 
the establishment at Astoria, in the current year, M'Dougal was 
sorely disappointed at finding that Messrs. Stuart and Clarke 
had omitted to comply with his request to purchase horses and 
provisions for the caravan across the mountains. It was now 
too late to make the necessary preparations in time for trav- 
ersing the mountains before winter, and the project had to be 
postponed. 

In the meantime the non-arrival of the annual ship, and the 
apprehensions entertained of the loss of the Beaver, and of Mr. 



ASTORIA. 343 

Hunt, had their effect upon the minds of Messrs. Stuart and 
Clarke. They began to hsten to the desponding representa- 
tions of M'Dougai, seconded by M'Kenzie, who inveighed 
against their situation as desperate and forlorn ; left to shift 
for themselves, or perish upon a barbarous coast; neglected by 
those who sent them there, and threatened with dangers of 
eve/y kind. In this way they were brought to consent to the 
plan of abandoning the country in the ensuing year. 

About this time, M'Tavish applied at the factory to purchase 
a small supply of goods T\^herewith to trade his way back to his 
post on the upper waters of the Columbia, having waited in 
vain for the arrival of the Isaac Todd. His request brought 
on a consultation among the partners. M'Dougai urged that 
it should be complied with. He furthernore proposed, that 
they should give up to M'Tavish, for a proper consideration, 
the post on the Spokan, and all its dependencies, as they liad 
not sufficient goods on hand to supply that post themselves 
and to keep up a competition with the Northwest Company in 
the trade with the neighboring Indians. This last representa- 
tion has since been proved incorrect. By inventories, it ap- 
pears that their stock in hand for the supply of the interior 
posts, was superior to that of the Northwest Company ; so that 
they had nothing to fear from competition. 

Through the influence of Messrs. M'Dougai and M'Kenzie, 
this proposition was adopted, and was promptly accepted by 
M'Tavish. The merchandise sold to him amounted to eight 
hundred and fifty-eight dollars, to be paid for, in the following 
spring, in horses, or in any other manner most acceptable to 
the partners at that pei-iod. 

This agreement being concluded, the partners formed their 
plans for the year that they would yet have to pass in the 
country. Their objects were, chiefly, present subsistence, and 
the purchase of horses for the contemplated journey, though 
they were likewise to collect as much ppltries as their dimin- 
ished means would command. Accordingly, it was arranged 
that David Stuart should return to liis former post on the 
Oakiragan, and Mr. Clarke should make his sojourn among 
the Fiatheads. John Eeed, the sturdy Hibernian, was to un- 
dertake the Snake River country, accompanied by Pierre 
Dorion and Pierre Delaunay, as hunters, and Francis Landry, 
Jean Baptiste Turcotte, Andre La Chapehe, and Gilles le Clerc, 
Canadian voyageurs. 

Astoria, hov/ever, was the post about which they felt the 



34-i AST III A. 

greatest solicitude, and on which they all more or less depended. 
The maintenance of this in safety throughout the coming year, 
was, therefore, their grand consideration. Mr. M'Dougal was 
to continue in command of it, with a party of forty men. Thx:j 
would have to depend chiefly upon the neighboring savages for 
their subsistence. These, at present, were friendly, but it was 
to be feared that, when they should discover the exigencies of 
the post, and its rea' weakness, they might proceed to hostiii 
ties ; or, at any rate, might cease to furnish their usual supplies. 
It was important, therefore, to render the place as independent 
as possible, of the surrounding tribes for its support ; and it was 
accordingly resolved that M'Kenzie, with four hunters, and 
eic:ht common men, should v/inter in the abundant country of 
Wollamat, from whence they might be enabled to furnish a 
constant supply of provisions to Astoria. 

As there was too great a proportion of clerks for the number 
of privates in the service, the engagements of three of them, 
Eoss Cox, Ross, and M'Lennan, were surrendered to them, and 
they immediately enrolled themselves in the service of the 
Northwest Company ; glad, no doubt, to escape from what they 
considered a sinking ship. 

Having made all these arrangements, the four partners, on 
the first of July, signed a formal manifesto, stating the alarm- 
ing state of their affairs, from the non-arrival of the annual ship, 
and the absence and ai)prehended loss of the Beaver, their 
want of goods, their despair of receiving any further sup|)ly, 
their ignorance of the coast, and their disappointment as to 
the interior trade, which they pronounced unequal to the ex- 
penses incurred, and incompetent to stand against ih.Q x>owerful 
©pposition of the Northwest Company. And as by the IBtli 
article of the company's agreement, they were authorized to 
abandon this undertaking and dissolve the concern, if before 
the period of five years it should be found unprofitable, they 
now formally announced their intention to do so on the 1st day 
of June, of the ensuing year, unless in the interim they 
should receive the necessary support and supplies from Mr. 
Astor, or the stockholders, with orders to continue. 

This instrument, accompanied by private letters of similar 
import, was delivered to Mr. M'Tavish, who departed on the 
5th of July. He engaged to forward the dispatches to Mr. 
Astor, by the usual winter express sent overland by the North- 
west Company. 

Tlie manifesto was signed w^ith great reluctance by Messrs. 



ASTOIUA. 345 

Clarke and D. Stuart, whose experience by no means justified 
the discouraging account given in it of the internal tr^de, and 
who considered the main ditiiculties of exploiing an unknown 
and savage country, and of ascertaining the best trading and 
trapping grounds, in a great measure overcome. They were 
overruled, iiowever, by the urgent instances of M'Dougal and 
M'Kenzie, VN^ho, having resolved upon abandoning the enter- 
prise, were desu^ous of making as strong a case as possible to 
excuse their conduct to Mr. Astor and to the world. 



CHAPTER LV. 



While difficulties and disasters had been gathering about 
the infant settlement of Astoria, the mind of its projector at 
Nev7 York was a prey to great anxiety. The ship Lark, dis- 
patched by him w^ith supplies for the establishment, sailed on 
the 6th of March, 1813. Within a fortnight afterward, he re- 
ceived intelligence which justified all his apprehensions of 
hostility on the part of the British. The Northwest Comx^any 
had made a second memorial to that government, representing 
Astoria as an American estabhshment, stating the vast scope of 
its contemplated operations, magnifying the strength of its for- 
tifications, and expressing their fears, that, unless crushed in 
the bud, it would effect the downfall of their trade. 

Influenced by these representations, the British Government 
ordered the frigate Phoebe to be detached as a convoy for the 
armed ship, Isaac Todd, '>vhich was ready to sail with men and 
munitions for forming a new establishment. Tliey were to 
proceed together to the mouth of the Columbia, capture or de- 
stroy VN^hatever American fortress they should find there, and 
plant the British flag on its ruins. 

Informed of ther^e movements, Mr. Astor lost no time in 
addressing a second letter fco the Secretary of State, communi- 
cating this intelligence, and requesting it might be laid before 
the President; as no notice, however, had been taken of his 
previous letter, he contented himself with this simple communi- 
cation, and made no further application for aid. 

Awakened now to the danger that menaced the establishment 
at Astoria, and aware of the importance of protecting this foot- 
hold of American commerce and emroire on the shores of the 



346 ASToniA. 

Pacific, the government determined to send the fiigate Adams, 
Captain Crane, upon this service. On hearing of this deter- 
mination, Mr. Astor immediately proceeded to fit out a ship 
called the Enterprise, to sail in company with the Adams, 
freighted with additional supplies and reinlorcements for 
Astoria. 

About the middle of June, while in the midst of these pre- 
parations, Mr. Astor received a letter from IMr. E. Stuart^ 
dated St. Louis, May 1st, confirming the intelligence already 
received through the public newspapers, of his safe return, and 
of the arrival of Mr. Hunt and his party at Astoria, and giving 
the most flattering accounts of the prosperity of the enterprise. 

So deep had been the anxiety of Mr. Astor, for the success of 
this great object of his ambition, that this gleam of good news 
was almost overpowering. "I felt ready," said he, "to fall 
upon my knees in a transport of gratitude." 

At the same time he heard that the Beaver had made good 
her voyage from New York to the Columbia. This was addi- 
tional ground of hope for the welfare of the little colony. The 
post being thus relieved and strengthened with an American at 
its head, and a ship of war about to sail for its protection, the 
prospect for the future seemed full of encouragement, and Mr. 
Astor proceeded, with fresh vigor, to fit out his merchant ship. 

Unfortunately for Astoria, this bright gleam of sunshine was 
soon overclouded. Just as the Adams had received her com- 
plement of men, and the two vessels were ready for sea, news 
came from Commodore Chauncey, commanding on Lake On- 
tario, that a reinforcement of seamen was wanted in that 
quarter. The demand was urgent, the crew of the Adams was 
immediately transferred to that service, and the ship was la,id 
up. 

This was a most ill-timed and discouraging blow, but Mr,, 
Astor would not yet allow himself to pause in his undertaking. 
He determined to send the Enterprise to sea alone, and let her 
take the chance of making her unprotected way across the 
ocean. Just at this time, however, a British force made its 
appearance off the Hook, and the port of New York was effec- 
tually blockaded. To send a ship to sea under these circum- 
stances would be to expose her to almost certain capture. The 
Enterprise was, therefore, unloaded and dismantled, and Mr. 
Astor was obliged to comfort himself with the hope that the 
Lark might reach Astoria in safety, and that, aided by her 
supplies and by the good management of Mr. Hunt and his aS' 



ASTOllIA. 347 

sociates, the littlo colony might be able to maintain itself until 
the return of peace. 



CHAPTER LVI. 



We have hitherto had so nmch to relate of a gloomy and 
disastrous nature, that it is with a feeling of momentary rehef 
we turn to something of a more pleasing complexion, and re- 
cord the first, and indeed only nuptials in high life that took 
place in the infant settlement of Astoria. 

M'Dougal, who appears to have been a man of a thousand 
projects, and of great though somewhat irregular ambition, 
suddenly conceived the idea of seeking the hand of one of the 
native princesses, a daughter of the one eyed potentate Com 
comly, who held sway over the fishing tribe of the Chinooks, 
and had long supphed the factory with smelts and sturgeons. 

Some accounts give rather a romantic origin to this affair, 
tracing it to the stormy night when T\I'Dougal, in the course of 
an exploring expedition, was driven by stress of weather to 
seek shelter in the royal abode of Comcomly. Then and there 
he was first struck with the charms of this piscatory princess, 
as she exerted herself to entertain her father's guest. 

The "journal of Astoria," however, which Avas kept under 
his own eye, records this union as a high state alKance, and 
great stroke of policy. The factory had to depend, in a great 
measure, on the Chinooks for provisions. They were at pres- 
ent friendkf , but it was to be feared they would prove other- 
wise, should they discover the weakness and the exigencies of 
the post, and the intention to leave the country. This alliance, 
therefore, would infallibly rivet Comcomly to the interests of 
the Astorians, and vWth him the powerful tribe of the Chinooks. 
Be this as it may, and it is hard to fathom the real policy of 
governors and princes, M'Dougal dispatched two of the clerks 
as ambassadors extraordinary, to wait upon the one-eyed 
chieftain, and make overtures for the hand of his daughter. 

The Chinooks, though not a very refined nation, have notions 
of matrimonial arrangements that would not disgrace the most 
refined sticklers for settlements and j)in money. The suitor re- 
pairs not to the bower of his mistress, but to her father's lodge, 
and throws down a present at his feet. His v/ishcs arc then 
disclosed by rjoino discrr'^'^. frie'-^d -employed by liim for the 



348 ASTORIA. 

purpose. If the suitor and his present find favor in the eyes of 
the father, he breaks the matter to his daughter, and inquires 
into the state of her inchnations. Should her answer be favor- 
able, the suit is accepted, and the lover has to make further 
presents to the father, of horses, canoes, and other valuables, 
according to the beauty and merits of the bride ; looking f or- 
ward to a return in kind whenever they shall go to house- 
keeping. 

We have more than once had occasion to speak of the 
shrewdness of Comcomly; but never was it exerted more 
adroitly than on this occasion. He was a great friend of 
M'Dougal, and pleased with the idea of having so distinguished 
a son-in-law; but so favorable an opportunity of benefiting 
his own fortune was not likely to occur a second time, and he 
determined to make the most of it. Accordingly, the negotia- 
tion was protracted with true diplomatic skill. Conference 
after conference was held with the two ambassadors; Coin- 
comly was extravagant in his terms, rating the charms of his 
daughter at the highest price, and indeed she is represented as 
having one of the flattest and most aristocratical heads in the 
tribe. At length the jjreliminaries were all happily adjusted. 
On the 20 th of July, early in the afternoon, a squadron of 
canoes crossed over from the village of the Chinooks, bearing 
the royal family of Comcomly, and all his court. 

That worthy sachem landed in princely state, arrayed in a 
bright blu^e blanket and red breech-clout, with an extra 
quantity of paint and feathers, attended by a train of half- 
naked v/arriors and nobles. A horse was in waiting to receive 
the princess, who was mounted behind one of the clerks, and 
thus conveyed, coy but compliant, to the fortress. Here she 
was received with devout though decent joy, by her expecting 
bridegroom. 

Her bridal adornments, it is true, at first caused some little 
dismay, having painted and anointed herself for the occasion 
according to the Chinook toilet ; by dint, however, of copious 
ablutions, she was freed from all adventitious tint and fra- 
grance, and entered into the nuptial state, the cleanest princess 
that had ever been known, of the somewhat unctuous tribe of 
the Chinooks. 

From that time forward Comcomly was a daily visitor at the 
fort, and was admitted into the most intimate councils of his 
son-in-law. He took an interest in everything that was going 
forward, but was particularly frequent in his visits to the 



ASTOBIA. 



S49 



blacksinith^s shop, tasking the labors of the artificer in iron for 
every kind of weapon and implement suited to the savage 
state, insomuch that the necessary business of the factory was 
often postponed to attend to his requisitions. 

The honeymoon had scarce passed away, and M'Dougal was 
seated with his bride in the fortress of Astoria, when, about 
noon of the 20th of August, Gassacop, the son of Ccmcomly, 
hurried into his presence with gi-eat agitation, and announced 
a sliip at the mouth of the river. The news produced a vast 
sensation. Was it a ship of peace or war? Was it American 
or British? Was it the Beaver or the Isaac Todd? M'Dougal 
hurried to the Avater-side, thre^ himself into a boat, and 
ordered the hands to pull with all speed for the mouth of the 
harbor. Those in the fort remained watching the entrance of 
the river, anxious to know whether they were to prepare for 
greeting a fi'iend or fighting an enemy. At length the ship 
was descried crossing the bar, and bending her course toward 
Astoria. Every gaze was fixed upon her in silent scrutiny, 
until the American flag was recognized. A general shout was 
the first expression of joy, and next a salutation was thundered 
from the cannon of the fort. 

The vessel came to anchor on the opposite side of the river, 
and returned the salute. The boa:. 3f Mr. M'Dougal went c^ 
board, and was seen returning late in the afternoon. The As- 
torians vs^atched her with straining eyes, to discover who were 
on board, but the sun v/ent down, and the evening closed in 
before she was sufficiently near. At length she reached the 
land, and Mr. Hunt stepped on shore. He was hailed as one 
risen from the dead, and his return was a signal for merri- 
ment almost equal to that which prevailed at the nuptials of 
M'Dougal. 

We must now explain the cause of this gentleman's long 
absence, which had given rise to such gloomy and dispiriting 
surmises. 



CHAPTER LVn. 



It will be recollected that the destination of the Beaver, when 
she sailed from Astoria on the 4th of Au,c:ust in 1812, was to 
proceed northwardly along the coast to Sheetka, or New Arch- 
angel, there to dispc^c of that pnrt cf her cargo intcndc:! for 



350 ASTORIA. 

the supply of the Eussian establishment at that place, and then 
to return to Astoria, where it was expected she would arrive 
in October. 

New Archangel is situated in Norfolk Sound, lat. 57° 2' N., 
long. 135° 50' W. It was the headquarters of the different colo' 
nies of the Eussian Fur Company, and the common rendez- 
vous cf the American vessels trading along the coast. 

The Beaver met with nothing worthy of xDarticular mention 
In her voyage, and arrived at New Archangel on the 19th of 
August. The place at that time was the residence of Count 
Baranhoff, the governor of the different colonies, a rough, 
rugged, hospitable, hard-drinking old Eussian; somewhat of a 
soldier, somewhat of a trader; above all, a boon companion 
of the old roystering school, with a strong cross of the bear. 

Mr. Hunt found this hyperborean veteran ensconced in a 
fort which crested the whole of a high rocky promontory. It 
mounted one hundred guns, large and small, and was impreg- 
nable to Indian attack, unaided by artillery. Here the old 
governor lorded it over sixty Eussians who formed the corps 
of the trading establishment, besides an indefinite number of 
Indian hunters of the Kodiak tribe, who were continually com- 
ing and going, or lounging and loitering about the fort hke so 
many hounds round a sportsman's hunting quarters. Though 
a loose liver among his guests, the governor was a strict disci- 
plinarian among his men, keeping them in perfect subjection, 
and having seven on guard night and day. 

Besides those immediate serfs and dependents just men- 
tioned, the old Eussian potentate exerted a considerable sway 
over a nuinerous and irregular class of maritime traders, who 
looked to him for aid and munitions, and through whom he 
may be said to have, in some degree, extended his power along 
the whole northwest coast. These were American captains of 
vessels engaged in a particular department of trade. One of 
these captains would come, in a manner, empty-handed to New 
Archangel. Here his ship would be furnished with about fifty 
canoes and a hundred Kodiak hunters, and fitted out with pro- 
visions, and everything necessary for hunting the sea-otter on 
the coast of California, where the Eussians have another estab- 
lishment. The ship would ply along the Calif ornian coast from 
place to place, dropping parties of otter hunters in their canoes, 
furnishing them only with water, and leaving them to depend 
upon their own dexterity for a maintenance. When a suffi- 
cient cargo v>^as collected she would gather up her canoes and 



ASTORIA. 351 

hunters, and return with them to Archangel, where the cap- 
tain would render in t'le returns of his voyage, and receive 
one half of the skiiis for his share. 

Over these coasting captains, as we have hinted, the veteran 
governor exerted some sort of sway, but it was of a peculia.r 
and characteristic kind ; it was the tyranny of the table. They 
were obliged to join him in his "prosnics" or carousals, and to 
drink "potations pottlo deep." His carousals, too, were not of 
the most quiet kind, nor were his potations as mild as nectar. 
"He is continually," said Mr. Hunt, "giving entertainments 
by way of parade, and if you do not drink raw rum, and boiling 
punch as strong as sulphur, he will insidt you as soon as he 
gets drunk, which is very shortly after sitting down to table." 

As to any ' ^ temperance captain" who stood fast to his faith, 
and refused to give up his sobriety, he might go elsewhere for 
a market, for he stood no chance with the governor. Earely, 
however, did any cold-water caitiff of the kind darken the 
door of old Bpiranhoff ; the coasting captains knew too well his 
humor and their own interests ; they joined in his revels, they 
drank, and sang, and whooped, and hiccuped, until they all 
got "half seas over," and then affairs went on swimmingly. 

An awful warning to all ' ' fiinchers" occurred shortly before 
Mr. Hunt's arrival. A young naval officer had recently been 
sent out by the emperor to take command of one of the com- 
pany's vessels. The governor, as usual, had him afe his " pros- 
nics," and plied him with fiery potations. The young man 
stood on the defensive until the old count's ire was completely 
kindled ; he carried his point, and made the greenhorn tipsy, 
willy nilly. In proportion as they grew fuddled they grew 
noisy, they quarrelled in their cups; the youngster paid old 
Baranhoif in his own coin by rating him soundly ; in reward 
for which, when sober, he was taken the rounds of four pick- 
ets, and received seventy-nine lashes, taled out with Russian 
punctuality of punishment. 

Such was the old grizzled bear with whom Mr. Hunt had to 
do his business. How he managed to cope with his humor; 
whether he pledged himself in raw rum and blazing punch, 
and ' ' clinked the can" with him as they made their bargains, 
does not appear upon record; we must infer, however, from 
his A'cneral observations on the absolute sway of this hard- 
drinking potentate, that he had to conform to the customs of 
his court, and that their business transactions presented a 
maudhn mixture of punch and peltry. 



353 ASTORIA. 

The greatest annoyance to Mr. Hunt, however, was the delay- 
to which he was subjected in disposing of the cai-go of the 
ship and getting the requisite returns. With all the gOA^er- 
nor's devotions to the bottle, he never obfuscated his faculties 
sufficiently to lose sight of his interest, and is represented by 
Mr. Hunt as keen, not to say crafty, at a bargain as the most 
arrant water drinker. A long time was expended negotiating 
with him, and by the time the bargain v/as concluded, the 
month of October had arrived. To add to the delay he was to 
be paid for his cargo in seal skins. Now it so happened that 
there was none of this kind of peltry at the fort of old Baran- 
hofli. It was necessary, therefore, for Mr. Hunt to proceed to 
a seal-catching establishment, which the Russian company had 
at the island of St. Paul in the sea of Kamschatka. He accord- 
ingly set sail on the 4th of October, after having spent forty- 
five days at New Archangel, boosing and bargaining with its 
roystering commander, and right glad was he to escape from 
the clutches of this " old man of the sea." 

The Beaver arrived at St. Paul's on the 31st of October ; by 
which time, according to arrangement, he ought to have been 
back at Astoria. The island of St. Paul's is in latitude 57° N., 
longitude 170° or 171° W. Its shores in certain places, and at 
certain seasons, are covered with seals, while others are play- 
ing about in the water. Of these, the Eussians take only the 
small onesi from seven to ten months old, and caref ally select 
the males, giving the females their freedom, that the breed 
may not be diminished. The islanders, however, kill the large 
ones for provisions, and for skins wherewith to cover their 
canoes. They drive them from the shore over the rocks, until 
within a short distance of their habitations, where they kill 
them. By this means they save themselves the trouble of 
carrying the skins, and have the flesh at hand. This is thrown 
in heaps, and when the season for skinning is over, they take 
out the entrails and make one heap of the blubber. This with 
drift-wood serves for fuel, for the island is entirely destitute of 
trees. They make another heap of the flesh, which, with the 
eggs of sea-fowls, preserved in oil, an occasional sea-lion, a few 
ducks in winter, and some v/ild roots, compose their food. 

Mr. Hunt found seven Russians at the island, and one hun- 
dred hunters, natives of Oonalaska, v/ith their families. They 
lived in cabins that looked like canoes; being, for the most 
part, formed of the jaw-bone of a whale, x)ut up as rafters, 
across which were laid x')iece3 of drift-wood covered over with 



ASTORIA. 0/5;, 

long grass, the skins of large sea animals, and earth, so as to 
be quite comfortable, in despite of the rigors of the climate ; 
though we are told they had as ancient and fish-like an odor, 
"as had the quarters of Jonah, when he lodged within the 
whale." 

In one of these odoriferous mansions Mr. Hunt occasionally 
took up his abode, that he might be at hand to hasten the 
loading of the ship. The operation, however, was somevvhat 
slow, for it was necessary to overhaul and inspect every pack 
to prevent imposition, and the peltries had then to be conveyed 
in largo boats, made of skins, to the ship, which vras some 
little distance from the shore, standing off and on. 

One night, while Mr. Hunt was on shore, with some others 
of the crew, there arose a terrible gale. Yv^hen the day broke 
the ship was not to be seen. He watched for her v.dth anxious 
eyes until night, but in vain. Day after day of boisterous 
storms and howling Vvdntry v/eather were passed in watchful- 
ness and solicitude. Nothing was to be seen but a dark and 
angry sea, and a scowling northern sky ; and at night he re- 
tired within the jaws of the whale, and nestled disconsolately 
among seal skins. 

At length, on the 13th of November, the Beaver made her 
appearance, much the worse for the stormy conflicts she had 
sustained in those hj^perborean seas. She had been obliged to 
carry a press of sail in heavy gales, to be able to hold her 
ground, and had consequently sustained great damage in her 
canvas and rigging. Mr. Hunt lost no time in hurrying the 
residue of the cargo on board of her ; then, bidding adieu to 
his seal-fishing friends and his whalebone habitation, he put 
forth once more to sea. 

He was novv^ for making the best of his way to Astoria, and 
fortunate would it have been for the interests of that place, 
and the interests of Mr. Astor, had he done so ; but, unluckily, 
a perplexing question rose in his mind. The sails and rigging 
of the Beaver had been much rent and shattered in the late 
storm; would she be able to stand the hard gales to be expected 
in making Columbia River at this season? Was it prudent, 
also, at this boisterous time of the year, to risk the valuable 
cargo which she now had on board, by crossing and recrossing 
the dangerous bar of that river? These doubts were probably 
suggested or enforced by Ca^ptain Sowle, who, it has already 
been seen, was an over-cautious, or rather a timid seaman, 
and they may have had some weight with ^Ir. Hunt; but 



354 ASTORIA. 

there were other considerations which more strongly GVv^ayed 
his mind. The lateness of the season, and the unforeseen 
delays the ship had encountered at New Archangel, and by 
being obliged to proceed to St. Paul's, had put her so much 
back in her calculated time, that there was a risk of her arriv- 
ing so late at Canton as to come to a bad market, both for the 
sale of her peltries and the purchase of a return cargo. He 
considered it to the interest of the company, therefore, that he 
should proceed at once to the Sandwich Islands; there wait 
the arrival of the annual vessel from New York, take passage 
in her to Astoria, and suiier the Beaver to continue on to 
Canton. 

On the other hand, he Vv'as urged to the other course by his 
engagements ; by the plan of the voyage marked out for the 
Beaver, by Mr. Astor; by his inclination and the possibility 
that the establishment might need his presence, and by the 
recollection that there must already be a large amount of 
peltries collected at Astoria, and wa,iting for the return of the 
Beaver to convey them to the market. 

These conHicting questions perplexed and agitated his mind, 
and gave rise to much anxious reflection, for he was a con- 
scientious man, that seems ever to have aimed at a faithful 
discharge of his duties, and to have had the interests of his 
employers earnestly at heart. His decision in the present 
instance w^as injudicious, and proved unfortunate. It was, 
to bear away for the Sandwich Islands. He persuaded himself 
that it was a matter of necessity, and that the distressed con- 
dition of the ship left him no other alternative ; but we rather 
suspect he was so persuaded by the representations of the 
timid captain. They accordingl}^ stood for the Sandv^dch 
Islands, arrived at Woahoo, v/here the ship underwent the 
necessary repairs, and again put to sea on the 1st of Janurvry, 
1813, leaving Mr. Hunt on the island. 

We v/ill follow the Beaver to Canton, as her fortunes, in 
some measure, exemplified the commanders of ships acting 
contrary to orders, and as they form a part of the tissue of 
cross-purposes that marred the great commercial enterprise 
we have undertaken to record. 

The Beaver arrived safe at Canton, where Captain Sowle 
found tlie. letter of Mr. Astor, giving him information of the 
war, and directing him to convey the intelligence to Astoria. 
He wrote a reply, dictated either by timidity or obstinacy, in 
which he declined complying with the orders of Mr. Astor, but 



ASTORIA. 355 

said he would wait for tlie return of peace, and then come 
home. Tlie other proceedings of Captain Sowle were equally 
wrong-headed and unlucky. He was offered one hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars for the fur he had taken on board at St. 
Paul's. The goods for which it had been procured cost but 
twenty-five thousand dollars in New York. Had he accepted 
this offer, and reinvested the amount m nankeens, which at 
that time, in consequence of the interruption to commerce by 
the war, were at two thirds of their usual price, the whole 
would have brought three hundred thousand dollars in New 
York. It is true, the war would have rendered it unsafe to 
attempt the homeward voyage, but he might have put the 
goods in store at Canton, until after the peace, and have sailed 
without risk of capture to Astoria ; bringing to the partners at 
that place tidings of the great profits realized on the outward 
cargo, and the still greater to be expected from the returns. 
The news of such a brilliant commencement to their unden 
taking would have counterbalanced the gloomy tidings of the 
war ; it would have infused new spirit into them all, and given 
them courage and constancy to persevere in the enterprise. 
Captain Sowle, however, refused the offer of one hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars, and stood wavering and chaffering for 
higher terms. The furs began to fall in value; this only in- 
creased his irresolution ; they sunk so much that he feared to 
sell at all ; he borrowed money on Mr. Astor's account at an 
interest of eighteen per cent, and laid up his ship to await the 
return of peace. 

In the meanwhile Mr. Hunt soon saw reason to repent the 
resolution he had adopted in altering the destination of the 
ship. His delay at the Sandwich Islands was prolonged far be- 
yond all expectation. He looked in vain for the annual ship in 
the spring. Month after month passed by, and stUi she did not 
make her appearance. He, too, proved the da^nger of depart- 
ing from orders. Had he returned from St. Paul's to Astoria, 
all the anxiety and despondency about his fate, and about the 
whole course of the undertaking, would have been obviated. 
The Beaver would have received the furs collected at the fac- 
tory, and taken them to Canton, and great gains, instead of 
great losses, would have been the result. The greatest blunder, 
however, was that committed by Captain Sowle. 

At length, on the 20th of June, the ship Albatross, Captain 
Smith, arrived from China, and brought the first tidings of the 
war to the Sandwich Islands. Mr. Hunt was no Ioniser in doubt 



356 ASTORIA. 

and perplexity as to the reason of the non-appearance of the 
annual ship. His first thoughts were for the welfare of x\storia, 
and concluding that the inhabitants would probably be in want 
of x^rovisions, he chartered the Albatross for two thousand dol- 
lars, to land him, with some supplies, at the mouth of the Co- 
lumbia, where he arrived, as we have seen, on the 20th of Aug- 
ust, after a year's seafaring that might have furnished a chap- 
ter in the wanderings of Sinbad. 



CHAPTER LVIII. 



Mr. Hunt was overwhelmed with surprise when he learnt 
the resolution taken by the partners to abandon Astoria. He 
soon found, however, that matters had gone too far, and the 
minds of his colleagues had become too firmly bent upon the 
measure, to render any opposition of avail. He was beset, too, 
with the same disparaging accounts of the interior trade, and 
of the whole concerns and prospects of the company that had 
been rendered to Mr, Astor. His own experience had been full 
of perplexities and discouragements. He had a conscientious 
anxiety for the interests of Mr. Astor, and, not comprehending 
the extended views of that gentleman, and his habit of operat- 
ing v/ith great amounts, he had from the first been daunted by 
the enormous expenses required, and had becoiPxC disheartened 
by the subsequent.losses sustained, which appeared to him to 
be ruinous in their magnitude. By degrees, therefore, he was 
brought to acquiesce in the step taken by his colleagues, as 
perhaps advisable in the exigencies of the case ; his only care 
was to wind up the business with as little further loss ^s possi- 
ble to Mr. Astor. 

A large stock of valuable furs was collected at the factory, 
which it was necessary to get to a market. There were twenty- 
five Sandwich Islanders, also, in the employ of the company, 
whom they were bound by express agreement to restore to 
their native country. For these purposes a ship was necessary. 

The Albatross was bound to the Marquesas, and thence to the 
Sandwich Islands. It was resolved that Mr. Hunt should sail 
in her in quest of a vessel, and should return, if possible, by 
the 1st of January, bringing with him a supply of provisions. 
Should anything occur, however, to prevent his return, an ar< 



ASTORIA. ^^^ 



rangement was to be proposed to Mr. M'Tavish, to transfer 
such of the men as were so disposed, from the service of the 
American Fur Company into that of the Northwest, the latter 
oecommg responsible for the wages due them, on receivin- an 
equivalent m goods, from the storehouse of the factory 5^ s a 
means of facilitating the dispatch of business, Mr M'Doural 
proposed, that in case Mr. Hunt should not return, the whole- 
arrangement with Mr. M'Tavish should be left solely to him 
Ihiswas assented to, the contingency being considered possible' 
but not probable. ' 

^rS '^ '^''?^^'' ^^ ''^^®' *^^* ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ announcement by Mr 
M Dougal of his intention to break up the estabhshment, three 
of the clerks, British subjects, had, with his consent, passed 

^^ l^^^^^'^T! ""^ ^^^ Northwest Company, and departed with 
Mr. M lavish for his post in the interior. 

Having arranged aU these matters during a sojourn of six 
days at Astoria, Mr. Hunt set sail in the Albatross on the 26th 
ot August, and arrived without accident at the Marquesas He 
had not been there long when Porter arrived in the fri-ate 
l^ssex, bringing m a number of stout London whalors as prfzes 
having made a sweeping cruise in the Pacific. From Commo- 
dore Porter he received the alarming intelligence that the Brit- 
ish trigate Phoebe, with a storeship, mounted wdth battering: 
pieces, calculated to attack forts, had arrived at Rio Janeiro 
where she had been joined by the sloops of war Cherub and 
Kacoon, and that they had all sailed in company on the 6th of 
July for the Pacific, bound, as it was supposed, to Columbia 
Kiver. 

Here, then, was the death-warrant of unfortunate Astoria? 
The anxious mind of Mr. Hunt was in greater perplexity than 
ever. He had been eager to extricate the property of I\Ir 4stor 
/rom a failing concern with as little loss as possible; there was 
now danger that the whole would be swallowed up. How was 
It to be snatched from the gulf ? It was impossible to charter 
a ship for the purpose, now that a British squadron was on its 
way to the river. He applied to purchase one of the whale- 
ships brought in by Commodore Porter. The commodore de- 
manded twenty-five thousand dollars for her. The price ap- 
peared exorbitant, and no bargain could be made. Mr Hunt 
then urged the commodore to fit out one of his i^rizes, and send 
her to Astoria to bring off the property and part of the people 
biit he declined, "from want of authoritv." He assured Mr 
Hunt, however, that he wo"H e>-deavor to fall in with tho 



358 ASTORIA. 

enemy, or, should he hear of their having certainly gone to the 
Columbia, he would either follow or anticipate them, should 
his circumstances warrant such a step. 

In this tantalizing state of suspense, Mr. Hunt was detained 
at the Mai-quesas until November 23d, when he proceeded in 
the Albatross to the Sandwich Islands. He still cherished a 
faint hope that, notwithstanding the war, and all other dis- 
couraging circumstances, the annual ship might have been sent 
by Mr. Astor, and might have touched at the islands, and pro- 
ceeded to the Columbia. He knew the j)ride and interest taken 
by that gentleman in his great enterprise, and that he would 
not be deterred by dangers and difficulties from prosecuting it ; 
much less would he leave the infant establishment without 
succor and support in the time of trouble. In this, we have 
seen, he did but justice to Mr. Astor ; and we must now turn 
to notice the cause of the non-arrival of the vessel which he 
had dispatched with reinforcements and supplies. Her voyage 
forms another chapter of accidents in this eventful story. 

The Lark sailed from New York on the 6th of March, 1813, 
and proceeded prosperously on her voyage, until within a few 
degrees of the Sandwich Islands. Here a gale sprang up that 
soon blcAv with tremendous violence. The Lark was a staunch 
and noble ship, and for a time buffeted bravely with the storm. 
Unluckily, however, she " broa,ched to," and was struck by a 
heavy sea, that hove her on her beam-ends. The helm, too, 
was knocked to leeward, all command of the vessel was lost, 
and another mountain wave completely overset her. Orders 
were given to cut away the masts. In the hurry and confusion 
the boats were also unfortunately cut adrift. The wreck then 
righted, but was a mere hulk, full of water, with a heavy eea 
washing over it, and ail the hatches off. On mustering the 
2rew, one man was missmg, who was discovered below in the 
forecastle, drowned. 

In cutting away the masts it had been utterly impossible to 
observe the necessary precaution of commencing with the lee 
rigging, that being, from the position of the ship, completely 
under water. The masts and spars, therefore, being linked to 
the wreck by the shrouds and rigging, remained alongside for 
four days. During all this time the ship lay x'oUing in the 
trough of the sea, the heavy surges breaking over her, and the 
spars heaving and banging to and fro, bruising the half- 
drowr..ed sailors that clung to the bowsprits and the stumps of 
the masts. The sufferings of these poor feiloAvs were intolera- 



ASTORIA. 359 

ble. Tliey stood to their waists in water, in imminent peril of 
being washed off by every surge. In this position they dared 
not sleep, lest they should let go their hold and be swept away. 
The only dry place on the wreck was the bowsprit. Here they 
took turns to be tied on, for half an hour at a time, and in this 
way gained short snatches of sleep. 

On the 14th the first mate died at his post, and was swept off 
by the surges. On the 17th two seamen, faint and exhaaisted, 
were washed overboard. The next wave threw their bodies 
back upon the deck, where they remained, swashing backward 
and forward, ghastly objects to the almost perishing survivors, 
Mr. Ogden, the supercargo, who was at the bowsprit, called to 
the men nearest to the bodies to fasten them to the wreck, as 
a last horrible resource in case of being driven to extremity by 
famine ! 

On the 17th the gale gradually subsided, and the sea became 
cahn. The sailors now crawled feebly about the wreck, and 
began to relieve it from the main incumbrances. The spars 
were cleared away, the anchors and guns heaved overboard ; 
the spritsail yard was rigged for a jurymast, and a mizzen- 
topsail set upon it. A sort of stage was made of a few broken 
spars, on which the crew were raised above the surface of the 
water, so as to be enabled to keep themselves dry and to sleep 
comfortably. Still their sufferings from hunger and thirst 
were great ; but there was a Sandwich Islander on board, an 
expert swimmer, who found his way into the ce^bin and occa- 
sionally brought up a few bottles of v/ine and porter, and at 
length got into the run, and secured a quarter cask of wine. 
A little raw pork was likewise procured, and dealt out with a 
sparing hand. The horrors of their situation were increased 
by the sight of numerous sharks prowling about the wreck, as 
if waiting for their prey. On the 24th the cook, a black man, 
died, and was cast into the sea, Avhen he was instantly seized 
on by these ravenous monsters. 

They had been several days making slow headway under 
their scanty sail, when, on the 25th, they came in sight of land. 
It was about fifteen leagues distant, and they remained two or 
three days drifting along in sight of it. On the 28th they de- 
scried to their great transpoi^t, a canoe approaching, managed 
by natives. They came alongside, and brought a most welcome 
supply of potatoes. They informed them that the land they 
had made was one of the Sandwich Islands. The second mate 
and one of the seamen went on shoro in the canoe for v/ater 



360 ASTORIA. 

and ]3ro visions, and to procure aid from the islanders, in tomng 
the wreck into a harbor. 

Neither of the men returned, nor was any assistance sent 
from shore. The next day, ten or twelve canoes came along- 
side, hut roamed round the wreck like so many sharks, and 
would render no aid in towing her to land. 

The sea continued to breakover the vessel with such violence 
that it Y/as impossible to stand at the helm without the assist- 
ance of lashings. The crew were now so worn down by fam- 
ine and thirst that the captain saw it woidd be impossible for 
them to withstand the breaking of the sea, when the ship 
should ground; he deemed the only chance for their lives, 
therefore, was to get to land in the canoes, and stand ready to 
receive and protect the wreck when she should drift to shore. 
Accordingly, they all got safe to land, but had scarcely touched 
the beach vv^hen they were surrounded by the natives, who 
stripped thorn almost naked. The name of this inhospitable 
island was Tahoorowa. 

In the course of the night the wreck came drifting to the 
strand, with the surf thundering around her, and shortly after- 
ward bilged. On the follov/ing morning numerous casks of 
provisions floated on shore. The natives staved them for the 
sake of the iron hoops, but would not allow the crew to help 
themselves to the contents, or to go on board of the wreck. 

As the crew were in want of everything, and as it might be 
a long time before any opportunity occurred for them to get 
away from these islands, Mr. Ogden, as soon as he could get 
a chance, made his vv^ay to the island of Owyhee, and en- 
deavored to make some arrangement with the king for the re- 
lief of his companions in misfortune. 

The illustrious Tamaahmaah, as we have shown on a former 
occasion, was a shrewd bargainer, and in the present instance 
proved himself an experienced wrecker. His negotiations 
with M'Douga,! and the other ' ' Eris of the great American Fur 
Company" had but little effect on present circumstances, and 
he proceeded to avail himself of their misfortunes. He agreed 
to furnish the crew with provisions during their stay in his 
territories, and to retu.rn to them all their clothing that could 
be found, but he stipulated that the wreck shoidd be abandoned 
to him as a waif cast by fortune on his shores. With these 
conditions Mr. Ogden was fain to comply. Upon this the 
great Tamaahmaah deputed his favorite, John Young, the tar- 
pa wiin governor of Owyhee, to i)roceed with a number of the 



ASTORIA. 361 

royal guards, and. take possession of the wreck on behalf of tlio 
crown. This was done accordingly, and the property and 
crew were removed to Owyhee. The royal bounty appears to 
have been but scanty in its dispensations. The crew fared but 
meagrely ; though on reading the journal of the voyage it is 
singular to find them, after all the hardships they had suffered, 
so sensitive about petty inconveniences as to exclaim against 
the king as a "savage monster," for refusing them a "pot to 
cook in," and denying Mr. Ogden the use of a knife and fork 
which had been saved from the wreck. 

Such was the unfortunate catastrophe of the Lark ; had she 
reached her destination in safety, affairs at Astoria might have 
taken a different course. A strange fatality seems to have at. 
tended all the expeditions by sea, nor were those by land much 
less disastrous. 

Captain Northrop was still at the Sandwich Islands on De- 
cember 20th, when Mr. Hunt arrived. The latter immediately 
purchased for ten thousand -dollars a brig called the Pedlei', 
and put Captain Northrop in command of her. They set sail 
for Astoria on the 22d of January, intending to remove tlie 
property from thence as speedily as possible to the Russian 
settlements on the northwest coast, to prevent it from falling 
into the hands of the British. Such were the orders of Mr. 
Astor, sent out by the Lark. 

We will now leave Mr. Hunt on his voyage, and return to 
see what has taken place at Astoria dm*ing his absence. 



CHAPTER LIX. 



On the 2d of October, about five weeks after Mr. Hunt had 
sailed in the Albatross from Astoria, Mr. M'Kenzie set off, with 
two canoes and twelve men, for the posts of Messrs. Stuart and 
Clarke, to apprise them of the new arrangements determined 
upon in the recent conference of the partners at the factory. 

He had not ascended the river a hundred miles, when he 
met a squadron of ten canoes, sweeping merrily down under 
British colors, the Canadian oarsmen, as usual, in full song. 

It was an armament fitted out by M'Tavish, who had with 
him Mr. J. Stuart, another partner of the Northwest Company, 
together v/ith some clerks and sixty-eight men— seventy-five 



363 AS TOUT A. 

souls in all. They had heard of the frigate Pnoebe and the 
Isaac Todd being on the high seas, and were on their way 
down to await their arrival. In one of the canoes Mr. Clarke 
came passenger, the alarming intelligence having brought him 
down from his post on the Spokan. Mr, M'Kenzie immedi- 
ately defcer mined to return with him to Astoria, and, veering 
about, the two parties encamped together for the night. The 
leaders, of course, observed a due decorum, but some of the 
subalterns could not restrain their chuckling exultation, boast- 
ing that they would soon plant the British standard on the 
walls of Astoria, and drive the Americans out of the country. 

In the course of the evening Mr. M'Kenzie had a secret con- 
ference with Mr. Clarke, in which they agreed to set off pri- 
vately, before daylight, and get down in time to apprise 
M'Dougal of the approach of these Northwesters. The latter, 
however, were compJetely on the alert; just as M'KenzieVj 
canoes were about to i^ush off, they were joined by a couple 
from the Northwest squadron, in which was M'Tavish with 
two clerks a,nd eleven men. With these he intended to pusii 
forward and make arrangements, leaving the rest of the con- 
voy, in which was a large quantity of furs, to await his orders. 

The two parties arrived at Astoria on the 7th of October. 
The Northwesters encamped under the guns of the fort, and 
displayed the British colors. The young men in the fort, na- 
tives of the United States, were on the point of hoisting the 
American flag, but were forbidden by Mr. M'Dougal. They 
were astonished at such a prohibition, and were exceedingly 
galled by the tone and manner assumed by the clerks and re- 
tainers of the Northwest Company, who rufiied about in that 
swelling and braggart style which grows up among these 
heroes of the wilderness ; they, in fact, considered themselves 
lords of the ascendant, and regarded the hampered and har - 
assed Astorians as a conquered people. 

On the following day M'Dougal convened the clerks, and 
read to them an extract of a letter from, his uncle, Mr. Angus 
Shav/, one of the principal partners of the Northwest Company, 
annoimcing the coming of the Phoebe and Isaac Todd, "to take 
and destroy everything American on the northwest coast." 

This intelligence was received without dismay by such of the 
clerks as were natives of tbe United States. They had felt in- 
dignant at seeing their national flag struck by a Canadian com- 
mander, and the British flag flowed, as it were, in their faces. 
The3^ hnd been stung to the r^iiicli, also, by the vaunting airs 



ASTORIA. 363 

assumed by the Northwesters. In this mood of mind they 
would wiUingly have railed their colors to the staff, and defied 
the frigate. She could not come Avithin many miles of the 
fort, they observed, and any boats she might send could be 
destroyed by their cannon. 

There were cooler and more calculating spirits, however, 
who had the control of affairs, and felt nothing of the patri- 
otic pride and indignation of these youths. The extract of the 
letter had, apparently, been read by M'Dougal merely to pre- 
pare the way for a preconcerted stroke of management. On 
the same day Mr. M'Tavish proposed to purchase the whole 
stock of goods and furs belonging to the company, both at As- 
toria and in the interior, at cost and charges. Mr. M'Dougal 
undertook to comply, assuming the whole management of the 
negotiation in virtue of the power vested in him, in case of the 
non-arrival of Mr. Hunt. That power, however, was lunited 
and specific, and did not extend to an operation of this nature 
and extent ; no objection, however, was made to his assump- 
tion, and he and M'Tavish soon made a preliminary arrange- 
ment, perfectly satisfactory to the latter. 

Mr. Stuart and the reserve party of Northwesters arrived, 
shortly afterward, and encamped wuth M'Tavish. The former 
exclaimed loudly against the terms of the arrangement, and 
insisted upon a reduction of the prices. New negotiations had- 
now to be entered into. The demands of the Northwesters 
were made in a peremptory tone, and they seemed disposed to 
dictate like conquerors. The Americans looked on with indig- 
nation and impatience. They considered M'Dougal as acting, 
if not a perfidious, certainly a craven part. He was continu- 
ally repairing to the camp to negotiate, instead of keeping 
within his walls and receiving overtures in his fortress. His 
case, they observed, w^as not so desperate as to excuse such 
crouching. He might, in fact, hold out for his own terms. 
The Northwest party had lost their ammunition; they had no 
goods to trade with the natives for provisions; and they were 
so destitute that M'Dougal had absolutely to feed them, while 
he negotiated with them. He, on the contrary, was well 
lodged and victualled ; ha.d sixty men with arms, ammunition, 
boats, and everything requisite either for defence or retreat. 
The party, beneath the guns of his fort, were at his mercy: 
should an enemy appear in the offing, he could pack up the 
most valuable part of the property, and retire to some place of 
concealment., or make off' for the interior. 



364 AST0B7A. 

These considerations, however, had no weight with Mr. 
M'Dougal, or were overruled by other motives. The terms of 
sale were lowered by him to the standard fixed by Mr. Stuart, 
and an agreement executed, on the 16th of October, by which 
the furs and merchandise of all kinds in the country, belong- 
ing to Mr. Astor, passed into the possession of the Northwest 
Company at about a third of their real value.* A safe passage 
through the Northwest posts v/as guaranteed to such as did not 
choose to enter into the service of that company, and the 
amount of wages due to them was to be deducted from the 
price paid for Astoria. 

The conduct and motives of Mr. M'Dougal, throughout the 
whole of this proceeding, have been strongly questioned by the 
other x)artners. He has been accused of availing himself of a 
v/rong construction of powers vested in him at his own request, 
and of sacrificing the interests of Mr. Astor to the Northwest 
Company, under the promise or hope of advantage to himself. 

He always insisted, however, that he made the best bargain 
for Mr. Astor that circumstances would i)ermit; the frigate 
being hourly expected, in which case the whole property of 
that gentleman would be liable to capture. That the return 
of Mr. Hunt was problematical ; the frigate intending to cruise 
along the coast for tv/o years, and clear it of all American 
vessels. He moreover averred, and M'Tavish corroborated his 
averment by certificate, that he proposed an arrangement to 
that gentleman, by which the furs were to be sent to Canton, 



* Not quite $40,000 were allowed for furs worth upward of $100,000. Beaver was 
valued at two dollars per skin, though worth five dollars. Land otter at fifty cents, 
though worth five dollars. Sea otter at twelve dollars, worth from forty -five to 
sixty dollars; and for several kinds of furs nothing was allowed. Moreover, the 
^oods and merchandise for the Indian trade ought to have brought three times the 
amount for which they were sold. 
The following estimate has been made of the articles on hand, and the prices: 
17,705 lbs. beaver parchment, valued at $2 00, worth $5 00 

4G5 old coat beaver " 1 C6, " 3 50 

907 land otter " 50, " 5 00 

G8 sea otter " 12 00, " $45-60 00 

.^0 " " 5 00, " 25 00 

Nothing was allowed for 

179 mink skins, worth each 40 

22 raccoon ... " 40 

28 lynx " ....„.--. $2 00 

18fox " 100 

lOG " " ,,.... .... 150 

71 black bear.. " 4 00 

16 grizzly bear. " ■ . -• , 10 00 



ASTORIA. 365 

and sold there at Mr. Astor's risk, and for his account ; but the 
proposition was not. acceded to. 

Notwithstanding all liis representations, several of the per- 
sons present at the transaction, and acquainted with the whole 
course of the affair, and among the number Mr. M'Kenzie him- 
self, his occasional coadjutor, remained firm in the belief that 
he acted a hollow part. Neither did he succeed in exculpating 
himself to Mr. Astor; that gentleman declaring, in a letter 
Y/ritten some time afterward, to Mr. Hunt, that he considered 
the property virtually given away. ' ' Had our place and our 
property, " he adds, ' ' been fairly captured, I should have pre- 
ferred it. I should not feel as if I were disgraced." 

All these may be unmerited suspicions ; but it certainly is 
a circumstance stronglj^ corroborative of them, that Mr. 
M'Dougai, shortly after concluding this agreement, became 
a member of the Northwest Company, and received a share 
productive of a handsome income. 



CHAPTER LX. 



On the morning of the 30th of November, a sail was descried 
doubling Cape Disappointment. It came to anchor in Baker's 
Bay, and proved to be a ship of war. Of what nation? was 
now the anxious inquiry. If English, why did it come alone? 
where was the merchant vessel that was to have accompanied 
it? If American, what was to become of the newly acquired 
possession of the Northwest Company? 

In this dilemma, M'Tavish, in all haste, loaded two barges 
with all the packages of furs bearing the mark of the North- 
west Company, and made off for Tongue Point, three miles up 
the river. There he was to awa.it a preconcerted signal from 
M'Dougai on ascertaining the character of the ship. If it 
be American, M'Tavish would have a fair sttirt, and could bear 
off his rich cargo to the interior. It is singular that this prompt 
mode of conveying valuable, but easily transportable effects 
beyond the reach of a hostile ship should not have suggested 
itself while the property belonged to Mr. Astor. 

In the meantime M'Dougai, who still remained nominal 
chief at the fort, launched a canoe, manned by men recently in 
the employ of the American Fur Company, and steered for the 
ship. On the way he instructed his men to pass themselves 



366 ASTORIA. 

for Americans or Englishmen, according to the exigencies of 
the case. 

The vessel proved to be the British sloop-of-vvar Eacoon, o£ 
twenty-six guns and one hundred and twenty men, commanded 
by Captain Black. According to the account of that officer, 
the frigate Phoebe, and the two sloops-of-war Cherub and 
Racoon, had sailed in convoy of the Isaac Todd, from Rio 
Janeiro. On board of the Phoebe Mr. John M'Donald, a part- 
ner of the Northwest Company, embarked as passenger, to 
profit by the anticipated catastrophe at Astoria. The convoy 
was separated by stress of weather oif Cape Horn. The three 
ships of war came together again at the island of Juan Fernan- 
dez, their appointed rendezvous, but waited in vain for the 
Isaac Todd. 

In the meantime intelligence was received of the mischief 
that Commodore Porter was doing among the British whale- 
ships. Commodore Hillyer immediately set sail in quest of 
him, with the Phoebe and the Cherub, transferring Mr. M'Don- 
ald to the Racoon, and ordering that vessel to proceed to the 
Columbia. 

The officers of the Racoon were in high spirits. The agents 
of the Northwest Company, in instigating the expedition, had 
talked of immense booty to be made by the fortunate captors 
of Astoria. Mr. M'Donald had kept up the excitement during 
the voyage, so that not a midshipman but revelled in dreams 
of ample prize-money, nor a lieutenant that would have sold 
his chance for a thousand pounds. Their disappointment, 
therefore, may easily be conceived, when they learned that 
their warlike attack upon Astoria had been forestalled by a 
snug commercial arrangement; that their anticipated booty 
had become British property in the regular course of traffic, 
and that all this had been effected by the very company which 
had been instrumental in getting them sent on what they now 
stigmatized as a fool's errand. They felt as if they had been 
duped and made tools of, by a set of shrewd men of traffic, who 
had employed them to crack the nut while they carried off the 
kernel. In a word, M'Dougal found himself so ungraciously re- 
ceived by his countrymen onboard of the ship, that he was glad 
to cut short his visit and return to shore. He was busy at the 
fort making preparations for the reception of the captain of the 
Racoon, when his one-eyed Indian father-in-law made his ap- 
pearance, Avith a train of Chinook warriors, all painted and 
equipped in warlike style. 



ASTORIA. 367 

Old Comcomly had beheld, with dismay, the arrival of a 
" big war canoe" displaying the British flag. The shrewd old 
savage had become something of a politician in the course of 
his daily visits at the fort. He knew of the war existing be- 
tween the nations, but knew nothing of the arrangement be- 
tween M'Dougai and M'Tavish. He trembled, therefore, for 
the power of his white son-in-law and the new-fledged gTandciu' 
of his daughter, and assembled his warriors in all haijte. 
"King George," said he, "has sent his great canoe to destroy 
the fort, and make slaves of all the inhabitants. Shall we suf- 
fer it? The Americans are the first white men that have fixed 
themselves in the land. They have treated us like brothers. 
Their great chief has taken my daughter to be his squaw : we 
are, therefore, as one people." 

His warriors all determined to stand by the Americans to the 
last, and to this effect they came painted and armed for battle. 
Comcomly made a spirited war-speech to his son-in-law, Ho 
offered to kill every one cf King George's men that should at- 
tempt to land. It was an easy matter. The ship could not 
approach within six m.iles of the fort ; the crew could only land 
in boats. The woods reached to the water's edge ; in these, he 
and his warriors would conceal themselves, and shoot dovv^n 
the enemy as fast as they put foot on shore. 

M'Dougai vfas, doubtless, properly sensible of this parental 
devotion on the part of his savage father-in-law, and perhaps a 
little rebuked by the game spirit so opposite to his own. He 
assured Comcomly, however, that his solicitude for the safety 
of himself and the princess was superfluous; as, though the 
ship belonged to King G eorge, her crew would not injure the 
Americans, or their Indian allies. He advised him and his 
warriors, therefore, to lay aside their weapons and war shirts, 
wash off the paint from their faces and bodies, and appear like 
clean and civil savages to receive the strangers courteously. 

Comcomly was sorely puzzled at this advice, which accorded 
so little with his Indian notions of receiving a hostile nation ; 
and it was only after repeated and positive assurances of the 
amicable intentions of the strangers that he wa^ induced to 
lower his fighting tone. He said something to his warriors 
explanatory of this singidar posture of affairs, and in vindica- 
tion, perhaps, of the pacific temper of his son-in-laAV. They all 
gave a shrug and an Indian grunt of acquiescence, and went 
off sulkily to their village, to lay aside tlieir weapons for the 
present. 



368 ASTORIA. 

The proper arrangements being made for the reception of 
Captain Black, that officer caused his ship's boasts to be manned, 
and landed with befitting state at Astoria. From the talk that 
had been made by the Northwest Company of the strength of 
the place, and the armament they had required to assist in its 
reduction, he expected to find a fortress of some importance. 
When he beheld nothing but stockades and bastions, calculated 
for defence against naked savages, he felt an emotion of indig- 
nant surprise, mingled with something of the ludicrous. ' ' Is 
this the fort," cried he, ''about which I have heard so much 
talking? D— n me, but I'd batter it down in two hours with a 
four-pounder !" 

When he learned, however, the amount of rich furs tnat had 
been passed into the hands of the Northwesters, he was out- 
rageous, and insisted that an inventory should be taken of aJl 
the property purchased of the Americans, "with a view to 
ulterior measures in England, for the recovery of the value 
from the Northwest Company." 

As he grew cool, however, he gave over all idea of preferring 
such a claim, and reconciled himself, as well as he could, to 
the idea of having been forestalled by his bargaining coadjutors. 

On the 12th of December the fate of Astoria was consum- 
mated by a regular ceremonial. Captain Black, attended by 
his ofiicers, entered the fort, caused the British standard to be 
erected, broke a bottle of wine, and declared, in a loud voice, 
that he took possession of the establishment and of the coun- 
try, in the name of his Britannic Majesty, changing the name 
of Astoria to that of Fort George. 

The Indian warriors who had offered their services to repel 
the strangers were present on this occasion. It v/as explained 
to them as being a friendly arrangement and transfer, but they 
shook their heads grimly, and considered it an act of subjuga- 
tion of their ancient allies. They regretted that they had com- 
phed with M'Dougal's wishes, in laying aside their arms, and 
remarked that, however the x\mericans might conceal the fact, 
they were undoubtedkf all slaves ; nor could they be persuaded 
of the contrary until they beheld the Kacoon depart without 
taking away any prisoners. 

As to Comcomly, he no longer prided himself upon his white 
son-in-law, but, whenever he was asked about him, shook his 
head, and replied, that his dau&Iiter had made a mistake, and, 
instead of getting a great warrior for a husband, had married 
herself to a squaw. 



ASTORIA. 369 



CHAPTEE LXI. 

Having given the catastrophe at the fort of Astoria, it re- 
mains now but to gather up a few loose ends of this widely 
excursive narrative and conclude. On the 28th of February 
the brig Pedler anchored in Columbia Eiver. It will be recol- 
lected that Mr. Hunt had purchased this vessel at the Sand- 
wich Islands, to take off the furs collected at the factory, and 
to restore the Sandwich Islanders to their homes. When that 
gentleman learned, however, the precipitate and summary 
raanner in which the property had been bargained away by 
M'Dougal, he expressed his indignation in the strongest terms, 
and determined to make an effort to get back the furs. As 
soon as his wishes were known in this respect, M'Dougal came 
to sound liim on behalf of the Northwest Company, intimating 
that he had no doubt the peltries might be repurchased at an 
advance of fifty per cent. This overture was not calculated to 
soothe the angry feelings of Mr. Hunt, and his indignation 
was complete when he discovered that M'Dougal had become a 
partner of the Northwest Company, and had actually been so 
since the 23d of December. He had kept his partnership a 
secret, however; had retained the papers of the Pacific Fur 
Company in his possession, and had continued to act as Mr. 
Astor's agent, though two of the x^arties of the other company, 
Mr. M'Kenzic and Mr. Clarke, were present. He had, more- 
over, divulged to his new associates all that he knew as to Mr. 
Astor's plans and affairs, and had made copies of his business 
letters for their perusal. 

Mr. Hunt now considered the whole conduct of M'Dougal 
hoUow and collusive. His only thought was, therefore, to get 
all the papers of the concern out of his hands, and bring the 
business to a close; for the interests of Mr. Astor were yet 
completely at stake; the drafts of the North Vv^est Company in 
his favor, for the purchase money, not having yet been ob- 
tained. With some difficulty he succeeded in getting posses- 
sion of the papers. The bills or drafts were delivered without 
hesitation. The latter he remitted to Mr. Astor by some of his 
associates, who were about to cross the continent to New York. 
This done, he embarked on board the Pedler, on April Sd, 



370 ASTORIA. 

accompanied by two of the clerks, Mr. Seton and Mr. Halsey, 
and bade a final adieu to Astoria. 

The next day, April 4th, Messrs. Clarke, M'Kenzie, David 
Stuart, and such of the Astorians as had not entered into the 
service of the Northwest Company, set out to cross the Rocky 
Mountains. It is not our intention to take the reader another 
journey across those rugged barriers; but we will step forward 
with the travellers to a distance on their way, merely to relate 
their interview with a character already noted in this work. 

As the party were proceeding up the Columbia, near the 
mouth of the Wallah-Wallah River, several Indian canoes put 
off from the shore to overtake them, and a voice called upon 
them in French and requested them to stop. They accordingly 
put to shore, and were joined by those in the canoes. To their 
surprise, they recognized in the person who had hailed them 
the Indian wife of Pierre Dorion, accompanied by her two 
children. She had a story to tell, involving the fate of several 
of our unfortunate adventurers. 

Mr. John Reed, the Hibernian, it will be remembered, had 
been detached during the summer to the Snake River. His 
party consisted of four Canadians, Gila''^ Le CI ere, Francois 
Landry, Jean Baptiste Turcot, and Andre La Cbapelle, to- 
gether with two hunters, Pierre Dorion and Pierre Delaunay ; 
Dorion, as usual, being accompanied by his wife and children. 
The objects of this expedition were twofold — to trap beaver, 
and to search for the three hunters, Robinson, Hoback, and 
Rezner. 

In the course of the autumn Reed lost one man, Landry, by 
death; another one, Pierre Delaunay, who was of a sullen, per- 
verse disposition, left him in a moody fit, a-nd was never heard 
of afterward. The number of his party was not, however, re- 
duced by these losses, as the three hunters Robinson, Hoback, 
and Rezner, had joined it. 

Reed now built a house on the Snake River, for their winter 
quarters ; which, being completed the party set about trapping. 
Rezner, Lg Clerc, and Pierre Dorion went about five days' 
journey fiom the wintering house, to a part of the country 
weU stocked with beaver. Here they put up a hut, and pro- 
ceeded to trap with great success. While the men vrere out 
hunting, Pierre Dorion's wife remained at home to dress the 
skins and prepare the meals. She was thus employed one 
evening about the beginning of January, cooking the supper 
of the hunters, when she heard footsteps, and Le Clerc stag- 



ASTOJUA. 371 

gored, pale and bleeding, into the hut. He informed her that 
a, party of savages had surprised them while at their traps, and 
had killed Rezner and her husband. He had barely strength 
left to give this information, when he sank upon the ground. 

The poor woman saw that the only chance for life was in- 
stant flight, but, in this exigency, showed that presence of 
mind and force of character for which she had frequently been 
noted. With great difficulty she caught two of the horses 
belonging to the party. Then collecting her clothes, and a 
small quantity of beaver meat and dried salmon, she packed 
them upon one of the horses, and helped the wounded man to 
mount upon it. On the other horse she mounted with her two 
children, and hurried away from tliis dangerous neighborhood, 
directing her flight to Mr. Reed's establishment. On the third 
day she descried a number of Indians on horseback proceeding 
in an easterly direction. She immediately dismounted with 
her children, and helped Le Clerc hkewise to dismount, and all 
concealed themselves. Fortunately they escaped the sharp 
eyes of the savages, but had to proceed with the utmost cau- 
tion. That night they slept without fire or water ; she man- 
aged to keep her children warm in her arms ;* but before morn- 
ing poor Le Clerc died. 

With the dawn of day the resolute woman resumed her 
course, and on the fourth day reached the house of Mr. Reed. 
It was deserted, and aU round were marks of blood and signs 
of a furious massacre. Not doubting that Mr. Reed and his 
party had all fallen victims, she turned in fresh horror from 
the spot. For two days she continued hurrying forward, 
ready to sink for want of food, but more sohcitous about her 
children than herself. At length she reached a range of the 
Rocky Mountains, near the upper part of the Wallah-Wallah 
River. Here she chose a wild, lonely ravine as her place of 
winter refuge. 

She had fortunately a buffalo robe and three deer skins ; of 
these, and of pine bark and cedar branches, she constructed a 
rude wigwam, which she pitched beside a mountain spring. 
Having no other food, she killed the two horses, and smoked 
their flesh. The skins aided to cover her hut. Here she 
dragged out the winter, with no other company than her two 
children. Toward the middle of March her j)rovisions were 
nearly exhausted. She therefore packed up the remainder, 
slung it on her back, and, with her helpless little ones, set out 
again on her wanderings. Crossing the ridge of mountains,. 



372 ASTORIA. 

she descended to the banks of the Wallah- Wallah, and kept 
along tliem until she arrived where that river throws itself 
into the Columbia. She was hospitably received and enter' 
tained by the Wallah-WaUahs, and had been nearly two weeks 
among them when the two canoes passed. 

On being interrogated, she could assign no reason for this 
murderous attack of the savages ; it appeared to be perfectly 
wanton and unprovoked. Some of the Astorians supposed it 
an act of butchery by a roving band of Blackfeet; others, 
however, and with greater probability of correctness, have 
ascribed it to the tribe of Pierced-nose Indians, in revenge for 
the death of their comrade hanged by order of Mr. Clarke. If 
so, it shows that these sudden and apparently wanton out' 
breakings of sanguinary violence on the part of the savages 
have often some previous, though perhaps remote, provocation. 

The narrative of the Indian woman closes the checkered 
adventures of some of the personages of this motley story; 
such as the honest Hibernian Reed, and Dorion the hybrid 
interpreter. Turcot and La Chapelle were two of the men who 
fell off from Mr. Crooks in the course of his wintry journey, 
and bad subsequently such disastrous times among the In- 
dians. We cannot but feel some sympathy with that per- 
severing trio of Kentuckians, Robinson, Rezner, and Hoback, 
who twice turned back when on their way homeward, and 
lingered in the wilderness to perish by the hands of savages. 

The return parties from Astoria, both by sea and land, ex- 
perienced on the way as many adventures, vicissitudes, and 
mishaps, as the far-famed heroes of the "Odyssey;" they 
reached their destination at different times, bearing tidings to 
Mr. Astor of the unfortunate termination of his enterprise. 

That gentleman, however, was not disposed, even yet, to 
give the matter up as lost. On the contrary, his spirit was 
roused by v/hat he considered ungenerous and unmerited con- 
duct on the part of the Northwest Company. "After their 
treatment of me," said he in a letter to Mr. Hunt, " I have no 
idea of remaining quiet and idle. '' He determined, therefore, 
as soon as circumstances would permit, to resume his enter- 
prise. 

At the return of jjeace, Astoria, with the adjacent country, 
reverted to the United States by the treaty of Ghent, on the 
principle of status ante helium^ and Captain Biddle was dis- 
patched, in the sloop-of-war Ontario, to take formal repos' 
session. 



ASTORIA. -■ 373 

In the winter of 1815 a law was passed by Congress prohibit- 
ing all trafnc of British traders within the territories of the 
United States. 

The favorable moment seemed now to Mr. Astor to have 
arrived for the revival of his favorite enterprise, but new 
difficulties had grown up to impede it. The Northwest Com- 
pany were now in complete occupation of the Columbia River, 
and its chief tributary streams, holding the posts which he 
had established, and carrying on a trade throughout the neigh- 
boring region, in defiance of the prohibitory law of Congress, 
which, in effect, was a dead letter beyond the mountains. 

To dispossess them would be an undertaking of almost a 
belhgerent nature; for their agents and retainers were well 
armed, and skilled in the use of weapons, as is usual with 
Indian traders. The ferocious and bloody contests which had 
taken place between the rival trading parties of the Northwest 
and Hudson's Bay Companies had shown what might be ex- 
pected from commercial feuds in the lawless depths of the 
wilderness. Mr. Astor did not think it advisable, therefore, 
to attempt the matter without the protection of the American 
flag, under which his people might rally in case of need. He 
accordingly made an informal overture to the President of the 
United States, Mr. Madison, through Mr. Gallatin, offering to 
renew his enterprise, and to re-establish Astoria, provided it 
would be protected by the American flag, and made a military 
post, stating that the whole force required w^ould not exceed a 
lieutenant's command. 

The application, approved and recommended by Mr. GaUa 
tin, one of the most enlightened statesmen of our country, was 
favorably received, but no step was taken in consequence ; the 
President not being disposed, in all probability, to commit 
himself by any direct countenance or overt act. Discouraged 
by this supineness on the part of the government, Mr. Astor 
did not think fit to renew his overtures in a more formal man- 
ner, and the favorable moment for the re-occupation of Astoria 
was suffered to pass unimproved. 

The British trading establishments were thus enabled, with- 
out molestation, to strike deep their roots, and extend their 
ramifications, in despite of the prohibition of Congress, until 
they had spread themselves over the rich field of enterprise 
opened by Mr. Astor. The British government soon began to 
perceive the importance of this region, a.nd to desire to include 
it within their territorial domains. A question has conse- 



374 ASTORIA, 

quently risen as to the right to the soil, and has become one of 
the most perplexing now open between the United States and 
Great Britain. In the first treaty relative to it, under date of 
October 20th, 1818, the question v/as left unsettled, and it was 
agreed that the country on the northwest coast of America, 
westward of the Eocky Mountains, claimed by either nation, 
should be open to the inhabitants of both for ten years, for the 
purposes of trade, with the equal right of navigating all its 
rivers. When these ten years had expired, a subsequent 
treaty, in 1828, extended the arrangement to ten additional 
years. So the matter stands at present. 

On casting back our eyes over the series of events we have 
recorded, we see no reason to attribute the failure of this great 
commercial undertaking to a::^y fault in the scheme, or omis- 
sion in the execution of it, on the part of the projector. It was 
a magnificent enterprise ; well concerted and carried on, with- 
out regard to difficulties or expense. A succession of adverse 
circumstances and cross purposes, however, beset it almost 
from the outset ; some of them, in fact, arising from neglect of 
the orders and instructions of Mr. Astor. The first crippling 
blow was the loss of the Tonquin, which clearly would not 
have happened had Mr. Astor's earnest injunctions with re- 
gard to the natives been attended to. Had this ship performed 
her voyage prosperously, and revisited Astoria in due time, 
the trade of the estabhshment would have taken its precon- 
certed course, and the spirits of all concerned been kept up by 
a confident prospect of success. Her dismal catastrophe struck 
a chill into every heart, and prepared the way for subsequent 
despondency. 

Another cause of embarrassment and loss was the departure 
from the plan of Mr, Astor, as to the voyage of the Beaver, 
subsequent to her visiting Astoria. The variation from this 
plan produced a series of cross purposes, disastrous to the 
establishment, and detained Mr. Hunt absent from his post, 
when his presence there was of vital importance to the enter- 
prise ; so essential is it for an agent, in aiay great and com- 
plicated undertaking, to execute faithfully, and to the letter, 
the part marked out for him by the master mind which has 
concerted the whole. 

The breaking out of the war between the United States and 
Groat Britain multiplied the hazards and emboxrassments of 
the enterprise. The disappointment as to convoy rendered it 
difficult to keep up reinforcements and supplies; and the loss 
of the Lark added to the tissue of misadver+"^"" 



ASToniA. 375 

That Mr. Astor battled resolutely against every difficulty, 
and pursued his course in defiance of every loss, has been 
sufficiently shown. • Had he been seconded by suitable agents, 
^nd properly protected by government, the ultimate failure of 
his plan might yet have been averted. It was his great mis- 
fortune that his agents were not imbued v/ith his own spirit. 
Some had not capacity sufficient to comprehend the real nature 
and extent of his scheme ; others were alien in feeling and in- 
terest, and had been brought up in the service of a rival com- 
pany. Whatever sympathies they might originally have had 
with him, were impau^ed, if not destroyed, by the war. They 
looked upon his cause as desperate, and only considered how 
they might make interest to regain a situation under their for- 
mer employers. The absence of Mr. Hunt, the only real 
representative of Mr. Astor, at the time of the capitulation 
with the Northwest Company, completed the series of cross 
purposes. Had that gentleman been present, the transfer, in 
all probabiiit}^, v/ould not have taken place. 

It is painful, at all times, to see a grand and beneficial stroke 
of genius fail of its aim : but we regret the failure of this enter- 
prise in a national point of view; for, had it been crowned 
with success, it would have redounded greatly to the advam 
tage and extension of our commerce. That profits drawn from 
the country in question by the British Fur Compa,ny, though 
of ample amount, form no criterion by which to judge of the 
advantages that would have arisen had it been entirely in the 
hands of the citizens of the United States. That company, as 
has been shown, is limited in the nature and scope of its opera- 
tions, and can make but little use of the maritime facilities held 
out by an emporium and a harbor on that coast. In oui 
hands, ) resides the roving bands of trappers and traders, the 
country v/ould have been explored and settled by industrious 
husbandmen ; and the fertile valleys bordering its rivers, and 
shut u]) among its mountains, would have been made to pour 
forth their agricultural treasures to contribute to the general 
wealth. 

In respect to commerce, we should have had a line of trading 
posts from the Mississippi and the Missouri across the Rocky 
Mountains, forming a high road from the great regions of the 
west to the shores of the Pacific. We should have had a fortiv 
fied post and port at the mouth of the Columbia, commanding 
the trade of that river and its tributaries, and of a wide extent 
of country and sea-coast ; carrying on an active and profitable 
commerce with the Sandwich Islands, and a direct and fre- 



376 ASTORIA. 

quent communication with China. In a word, Astoria might 
have reahzed the anticipations of Mr. Astor, so well under- 
stood and appreciated by Mr. Jefferson, in gradually becoming 
a commercial empire beyond the mountains, jjeopled by "free 
and independent Americans, and linked with us by ties of 
blood and interest." 

We repeat, therefore, our sincere regret that our govern- 
ment should have neglected the overture of Mr. Astor, and 
suffered the moment to pass by, v>^hen full possession of this 
region might have been taken quietly, as a matter of coursBj 
and a military post established, without dispute, at Astoria, 
Our statesmen have become sensible, when too late, of the im- 
portance of this measure. Bills have repeatedly been brought 
into Congress for the purpose, but without success ; and our 
rightful possessions on that coast, as well as our trade on the 
Pacific, have no rallying point protected by the national flag, 
and by a military force. 

In the meantime the second period of ten years is fast elaps- 
ing. In 1838 the question of title will again come up, and most 
probalily, in the present amicable state cf our relations with 
Great Britain, will be again postponed. Every year, however, 
the litigated claim is growing in importance. There is no 
pride so jealous and irritable as the pride of territory. As one 
wave of emigration after another rolls into the vast regions of 
the west, and our settlements stretch toward the Rocky 
Mountains, the eager eyes of our pioneers will pry beyond, and 
they will become impatient of any barrier or impediment in 
the v/ay of what they consider a grand outlet of our empire. 
Should any circumstance, therefore, unfortunately occur to 
disturb the present harmony of the two nations, this ill-ad- 
justed question, which now lies dormant, may suddenly start 
up into one of belligerent import, and Astoria become tlio 
watchword in a contest" for dominion on the shores of the 
Pacific. 

Since the above was written, the question of dominion over 
the vast territory beyond the Eocky Mountains, which for a 
time threatened to disturb the peaceful relations with our 
transatlantic kindred, has been finally settled in a spirit of 
mutual concession, and the venerable projector, whose early 
enterprise forms the subject of this v/ork, had the satisfaction 
of knowing, ere his eyes closed upon the world; that the flag 
of his country again waved over "Astoria." 



APPENDIX. 



Draught of a petition to Congress, sent by Mr. Astor in 1812. 

Tc the honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States, In 
Congress assembled. The petition of the American Fur Company respectfully 
showeth : 

That the trade with the several Indian tribes of North America, has, for many 
years past been almost exclusively carried on by the merchants of Canada ; who, 
having formed powerful and extensive associations for that purpose, being aided 
by British capital, and being encouraged by the favor and protection of the British 
government, could not be opposed, with any prospect of success, by individuals of 
the United States. 

That by means of the above trade, thus systematically pursued, not only the in- 
habitants of the United States have been deprived of commercial profits and advan- 
tages, to which they appear to have just and natural pretensions, but a great and 
dangerous influence has been established over the Indian tribes, difficult to be 
counteracted, and capable of being exerted at critical periods, to the great injury 
and anno3'ance of our frontier settlement. 

That in order to obtain at least a part of the above trade, and more particularly 
that which is within the boundaries of the United States, your petitioners, in the 
year 1808, obtained an act of incorporation from the State of New York, whereby 
they are enabled, with a competent capital, to carry on the said trade with the In- 
dians in such manner as may be conformable to the laws and regulations of the 
United States, in relation to such commerce. 

That the capital mentioned in the said act, amounting to one million of dollars, 
having been duly formed, your petitioners entered with zeal and alacrity into those 
large and important arrangements, which were necessary for, or conducive to, the 
object of their incorporation ; and, among other things, purchased a great part of 
the stock in trade, and trading establishments, of the Michiliinackinac Company of 
Canada. Your petitioners also, with the expectation of great public and private 
advantage from the use of the said establishments, ordered, during the spring and 
summer of 1810, an assortment of goods from England, smtable for the Indian 
trade; which, in consequence of the President's proclamation of November of that 
year, were shipped to Canada instead of New York, and have been transported under 
a very heavy expense, into the interior of the country. But as they could not legally 
be brought into the Indian country within the boundaries of the United States, they 
have been stored on the Island of St. Joseph, in Lake Huron, where they now re- 
main. 

Your petitioners, with great deference and implicit submission to the wisdom of 
the national legislature, beg leave to suggest for consideration, whether they have 
not some claim to national attention and encouragement, from the nature and im- 
portance of their undertaking ; which though hazardous and uncertain as it con- 
cerns their private emolument, must, at any rate, redound.to the public security and 



378 APrE^Dix. 

advantage. If their undertaking shall appear to be of the description given, they 
would further suggest to your honorable bodies, that unless they can procure a reg- 
ular supply for the trade in which they are engaged, it may languish, and be finally 
abandoned by American citizens ; when it will revert to its former channel, with 
additional, and perhaps with irresistible, power. 

Under these circumstances, and upon all those considerations of public policy 
which will present themselves to your honorable bodies, in connection with those 
already mentioned, your petitioners respectfully pray that a law maj^ be passed to 
enable the President, or any of the heads of departments acting under his authority, 
to grant permits for the introduction of goods necessary for the supply of the In- 
dians, into the Indian country, that is, within the boundaries of the United States, 
under sucli regulations, and with such restrictions, as may secure the pubhc reve- 
nue and promote the public welfare. 

And your petitioners shall ever pray, etc. 
In witness whereof, the common seal of the American Fur Company is hereunto 

affixed, the day of March, 1813. 

By order of the Corporation. 

An Act to enable the American Fur Company, and other citizens, to introduce 
goods necessary for the Indian trade into the territories within the boundaries of 
the United States. 

Whereas, the public peace and welfare require that the native Indian tribes re- 
siding within the boundaries of the United States, should receive their necessary 
supplies under the authority and from the citizens of the United States : Therefore, 
be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States, in 
Congress assembled, that it shall be lawful for the President of the United States, 
or any of the heads of departments thereunto by him duly authorized, from time 
to time to grant permits to the American Fur Company, their agents or factors, or 
any other citizens of the United States engaged in the Indian trade, to introduce 
into the Indian country, within the boundaries of the United States, such goods, 
wares, and merchandise, as may be necessary for the said trade, under such regu- 
lations and restrictions as the said President or heads of departments may judge 
proper; any law or regulation to the contrary, in anywise, notwithstanding. 



Letter from Mr. Gallatin to Mr. Astor, dated 

New York, August 5, 1835. 

Dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I will state such facts as I recollect 
touching the suojects mentioned in your letter of 28th ult. I may be mistaken re- 
specting dates and details, and will only relate general facts, which I well remem- 
ber. 

In conformity with the treaty of 1794 with Great Britain, the citizens and sub- 
jects of each country were permitted to trade with the Indians residing in the terri- 
tories of the other party. The reciprocity was altogether nominal. Since the con- 
quest of Canada, the British had inherited from the French the whole fur trade, 
through the great lakes and their communications, with all the western Indians, 
whether residing in the British dominions or the United States. Thej' kept the im- 
portant western posts on those lakes till about the year 1797. And the defensive 
Indian war, which the United States had to sustain from 1776 to 1795, had still more 
alienated the Indians, and secured to the British their exclusive trade, carried 
through the lakes, wherever the Indians in tliat quarter lived. No American could, 
without imminent danger of property and life, carry on that trade, even within the 
United States, by the way of either Michilimackinac or St. Mary's. And indepen- 
dent of the loss of commerce. Great Britain was enabled to preserve a most danger- 
ous influence over our Indians. 



APPENBTX. 379 

It was under these circumstanoes that you communicated to our government the 
prospect you had to b.e able, and your intention, to purchase one half of the inter- 
est of the Canadian Fur Company, engaged in trade by the way of MichiHmackinac 
vith our own Indians. You wished to know whether tlie plan met with the ajjpro- 
batiou of government, and how far you could rely on its prt)tection and encourage 
nieut. This overture was received with great satisfaction by the administration 
and Mr. Jefferson, then President, wrote you to that elTeet. I was also directed, as 
Secretary" of the Treasury, to waite to you an otticial letter to the same purpose. 
On investigating the subject, it was found that the Executive liad no authority to 
give you any direct aid; and I believe that you received nothing more than an en- 
tire approbation of your plan, and general assurances of the protection due to 
every citizen engaged in lawful and useful pursuits. 

Ycu did effect the contemplated purchase, but in v\diat year I do not recollect. 
Immediately before the war, you represented that a lai-ge quantity of mei-chandise, 
intended for tlie Indian trade, and including arms and munitions of war, belonging 
to that concern of which you owned one half, was deposited at a post ou Lake 
Hurou, within the British dominions; that, in order to prevent their ultiniatel}- fall- 
ing into the liauds of Indians who might prove hostile, you were desirous to tiy to 
have them conveyed into the United States; but that you were prevented bj' the 
then existing law of non-intercourse w ith the British dominions. 

The Executive could not annul the provisions of that law. But I was directed to 
instruct the collectors on the lakes, in case you or your agents should voluntarily 
bring in and deliver to them any parts of the goods mentioned, to receive and keep 
them in their guard, and not to commence prosecutions until further instructions; 
the intention being then to applj- to Congress for an act remitting the forfeitui-e 
and penalties. I wrote accordingly, to that effect, to the collectors of Detroit and 
Michilimackinac. 

The attempt to obtain the goods did not, however, succeed; and I cannot say how 
far the failure injured you. But the war proved fatal to another much more exten- 
sive and important enterprise. 

Previous to that time, but I also forget the year, you had undertaken to carry on 
a t>-ade on your own account, though I believe under the New York charter of the 
American Fur Company, with the Indians west of the Rocky Mountains. This pro- 
ject was also commimicated to government, and met, of course, with its full appro- 
bat-ion, and best wishes for your success. You carried it on, on the most extensive 
scale, sending several ships to the mouth of the Columbia River, and a large party 
by land across the mountains, and finalh/ founding the establishment of Astoria. 

This unfortunately fell into the hands of the enemy during the w^ar, from circum- 
stances with which I am but impei'fectly acquainted — being then absent on a for- 
eign mission. I returned in September, 1815, and sailed again on a mission to 
France in June, 1816. During that period I visited Washington twice— In October or 
November, 1816, and in March, 1816. On one of these two occasions, and I believe 
on the last, you mentioned to me that you were disposed once more to renew the 
attempt, and to re-establish Astoria, provided you had the protection of the Ameri- 
can flag; for which purpose a lieutenant's command would be sufficient to you. 
You requested me to mention this to the President, which I did. Mi'. Madison said 
he would consider the subject, and, although he did not commit himself, I thought 
that he received the proposal favorably. The message was verbal, and I do not 
know whether the application was ever renewed in a more formal manner. I sailed 
soon after for Europe, and was seven years absent. I never had the pleasure, since 
i816. to see Mr. Madison, and never heard again anything concerning the subject in 
question. 

I remain, dear sir, most respectfully, 

Your obedient s^r^ant, 

ALBERT GALLATIN. 

JoiiN Jacob Astor, Esq., New York. 



880 APPENDIX. 



Notices of the present state of the Fur Trade, chiefly extracted from an article 
published in Sillinian''s Journal for January, 1834. 

The Northwest Company did not long enjoy the sway they had acquired over the 
trading regions of the Columbia. A competition, ruinous in its expenses, wliieli had 
long existed between them and the Hudson's Hay Companj% ended in their down- 
fall and the i-uin of most of the partners. The relict of the company became 
merged in the rival association, and the whole business was conducted under the 
name of the Hudson's Bay Company. 

This coalition took pla e in 1821. They then abandoned Astoria, and built a large 
establishment sixtj' miles up the river, on the i-ight bank, wliich they called Fort 
Vancouver. This was in a neighborhood where provisions could be more readily 
procured, and where there was less danger from molestation by any naval force. 
The company are said to carry on an active and prosperous trade, and to give great 
encouragement to settlers. They are extremely jealous, however, of any interfer- 
ence or participation in their ti-ade, and monopolize it from the coast of the Pacific 
to the mountains, and for a considerable extent north and south. The American 
traders and trappers wlio venture across the mountains, instead of enjo3ing the 
participation in the trade of the river and its tributaries, that had been stipulated 
by treaty, are obliged to keep to the south, out of the track of the Hudson's Bay 
parties. 

Mr. Astor has withdrawn entirely from the American Fur Company, as he has, 
in fact, from active business of every kind. That company is now headed by Mi*. 
Ramsay Crooks ; its princiiDal establishment is at Michilimackinac, and it receives 
Its furs from the posts depending on that station, and from those on the Mississippi, 
Missouri, and Yellowstone Rivers, and the great range of country extending thence 
to the Rocky Mountains. This company has steamboats in its employ, with which 
it ascends the rivers, and penetrates to a vast distance into the bosom of those 
regions formerly so painfully explored in keel boats and barges, or by weary par- 
ties on horseback and on foot. The first irruption of steamboats into the heart of 
these vast wildernesses is said to have caused the utmost astonishment and affright 
among their savage inhabitants. 

In addition to the main companies already mentioned, minor associations have 
been formed, which push their way in the most intrepid manner to the remote 
parts of the far West, and beyond the mountain barriers. One of the most noted 
of these is Ashley's company, from St. Louis, who trap for themselves, and drive 
an extensive trade with the Indians. The spirit, enterprise, and hardihood of 
Ashley are themes of the highest eulogy in the far West, and his adventures and 
exploits furnish abundance of frontier stories. 

Another company of one hundred and fiftj^ persons from New York, formed in 
1831, and headed by Captain Bonneville of the United States army, has pushed its 
enterprises into tracts before but little known, and has brbught considerable quan- 
tities of furs from the region between the Rocky Mountains and the coasts of Mon- 
terey and Upper California, on the Buenaventura and Timpanogos Rivers. 

The fur companies, from the Pacific east to tlie Rocky Mountains, are now occu- 
pied (exclusive of private combinations and individual trappers and traders) by the 
Russians ; and on the northwest, from Behring's Strait to Queen Cliai-Iotte's Island, 
in north latitude fifty-three degrees, and by the Hudson's Bay Company thence, 
south of the Columbia River ; while Ashley's company, and that under Captain 
Bonneville, take the remainder of the region to California. Indeed, the whole com- 
pass from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean is traversed in every direction. The 
mountains and forests, from the Arctic Sea to the Gulf of Mexico, are threaded, 
through every maze, by the hunter. Every river and tributary stream, from the 
Columbia to the mouth of the Rio del Norte, and from the M'Kenzie to the Colorado 
of the West, from their head springs to their junction, are searched and trapped 
for beaver. Almost all the American furs, which do not belong to the Hudson'? 



APFEJSDIX. 3gX 

Bay Company, find their way to New York, and are either distributed thence for 
home consumption, or sent to foreign markets. 

The Hudson's Bay Company ship their furs from their factories of York Fort and 
from Moose River, on Hudson's Bay ; tlieir collection from Grand River, etc., they 
ship from Canada ; and the collection from Columbia goes to London. None of 
their furs come to the United States, except through the Indian market. 

The export trade of furs from the United States is chiefly to London. Some 
quantities have been sent to Canton, and some few to Hamburg ; and an increasing 
export trade in beaver, otter, nutria, and vicunia wool, prepared for the hatter's 
use, is carried on in Mexico. Some furs are exported from Baltimore, Philadelphia, 
and Boston ; but the principal shipments from the United States are from New 
York to London, from whence thej- are sent to Leipsic, a well-known mart for furs, 
where ihey are disposed of during the great fair in that city, and distributed to 
every part of tlie continent. 

The United States import from South America, nutria, vicunia, chinchilla, and a 
few deer skins ; also fur seals from the Lobos Islands, off the river Plate. A quan- 
tity of beaver, otter, etc., are brought annuallj' from Santa F6. Dressed furs for 
edgings, linings, caps, muffs, etc., such as squirrel, genet, fitch skins, and blue 
rabbit, are received from the north of Europe ; also coney and hare's fur ; but the 
largest importations are from London, where is concentrated nearly the whole of 
the North American fur trade. 

Such is the present state of the fur trade, by which it will appear that the ex- 
tended sway of the Hudson's Bay Company, and its monopoly of the region of 
which Astoria was the key, has operated to turn the main current of this opulent 
trade into the coffers of Great Britain, and to render London the emporium instead 
of New York, as Mr. Astor had intended. 

We will subjoin a few observations on the animals sought after in this traffic, 
extracted from the same intelligent source with the preceding remarks. 

Of the fur-hearing animals, "the precious ermine," so called by way of pre- 
eminence, is found, of the best quality, onlj' in the cold regions of Europe and 
Asia.* Its fur is of the most perfect M-hiteness, except the tip of its tail, which is of 
a brilliant shining black. With these black tips tacked on the skins, they are beauti- 
fully spotted, producing an effect often imitated, but never equalled in other furs. 
The erniijie is of the genus mustela (weasel), and resembles the common weasel in 
its form; is from fourteen to sixteen inches from the tip of the nose to the end of 
the tail. Tlie body is from ten to twelve inches long. It lives in hollow trees, 
river banks, and especiallj^ in beech forests; preys on small birds, is very shy, 
sleeping duruig tlie day, and employing the night in search of food. The fur of the 
older animals is preferred to the younger. It is taken by snares and trails, and 
sometimes shot with blunt arrows. Attempts have been made to domesticate it ; 
bur, it is extremely wild, and has been found imtamable. 

The sable can scarcely be called .«econd to the ei-niine. It is a native of Northern 
Europe and Siberia and is also of the genus mustela. In Samoieda, Yakutsk, 
Kamschatka. and Russian Lapland, it is found of the richest qnalit.y and darkept 
color. In its habits it i-esembles the ermine. It prej-s on small squirrels and biids, 
sleeps by day, and prowls for food during the night. It is so like the marten, in 
every particular except its size, and the dark shade of its color, that naturalists 
nave not decided whetlier it is the richest and finest of the marten tribe, or a variety' 
of that species. t It varies in dimensions from eighteen to twenty inches. 



* An animal called the stoat, a kind of ermine, is said to be found in North Ameri- 
ca, but very inferior to the European and Asiatic. 

t The finest fur and the darkest color are most esteemed ; and whether the differ- 
ence arises from the age of the animal, or from some peculiarity of location, is not 
known. They do not varj^ more from the common marten than the Arabian horse 
from the sluvggy Canadian. 



332 APPENDIX. 

The rich dark shades of the sable, and the snowy whiteness of the ermine, the 
great depth, and the pecahar, ahnost flowing softness of their skins and fur, have 
combiued to gain them a preference in all countries, and in all ages of the world. 
In this age they maintain the same relative estimate in regard to other furs, as 
when tliey marked the rank of the proud crusader, and were emblazoned in heraiu- 
ry; but in most European nations they are now worn promiscuously by the opu- 
lent. 

The martens from Northern Asia and the Mountains of Kamschatka are much 
superior to the American, though in every pack of Aniei-ican marten skins there are 
a certain number which are beautifully shaded, and of a dark brown olive color, of 
great depth and richness. 

Next these in value, for ornament and utility, are the sea otter, the mink, and the 
fiery fox. 

The fiery fox is the bright red of Asia; is more brilliantly colored and of finer fur 
than any other of the genus. It is highly valued for the splendor of its red color 
and the fineness of its fur. It is the standard of value on the northeastern coast of 
Asia. 

The sea otter, which was first introduced into commerce in 1725, from the Aleu- 
tian and Kurile Islands, is an exceedingly fine, soft, close fur, jet black in winter, 
with a silken gloss. The fur of the young animal is of a beautiful brown color. It 
is met with in great abundance in Behring"s Island, Kamschatka, Aleutian and Fox 
Islands, and is also taken on the opposite coasts of North America. It is sometimes 
taken with nets, but more frequently Avith clubs and spears. Their food is princi- 
pally lobster and other shell-fish. 

In 1780 furs had become so scarce in Siberia that the supply was insufficient for 
the demand in the Asiatic countries. It was at tliis time that the sea otter was in- 
troduced into the markets for China. The skins brought such incredible prices as to 
originate immediately several Amei-ican and British expeditions to the northern 
islands of the Pacific, to Nootka Sound and the northwest coast of America; but the 
Russians already had possession of the tract which tliey now hold, and had arranged 
a trade for the sea otter with the Koudek tribes. They do not engross the trade, 
however; the American northwest trading ships procure them, all along the coast, 
from tiie Indians. 

At one period the fur seals formed no inconsiderable item in the trade. South 
Geoi-gia, in south latitude fifty-five degrees, discovered in 1675, v.as explored by 
Captain Cook in 1771. The Americans immediately commenced carrying seal skins 
thence to China, where they obtained the most exorbitant prices. One million two 
hundred thousand skins have been taken from that island alone, and nearly an 
equal nianber f i-om the Island of Desolation, since they were first resorted to for 
the purpose of commerce. 

The discovery of the South Shetlands, sixty-three degrees south latitude, in 1818, 
added surprisingly to the trade in fur seals. The number taken from the South 
Shetlands in 1821 and 1822 amounted to three hundred and twenty thousand. This 
valuable animal is now almost exiinct in all these islands, owing to tlje exterminat- 
ing system adopted by the hunters. They are still taken on the Lobos Islands, 
where the provident government of Mont-^video restrict the fishery, or hunting, 
within certain limits, which insures annual return of the .seals. At certain seasons 
these amphibia, for the purpose of renewing their coat, come up on the dark 
frowning rocks and precipices, where there is not a trace of vegetation. In the 
middle of January the islands are partially cleared of snow, where a few patches of 
short sti-aggling grass spring up in favorable situations; but the seals do not resort 
to it for food. They remain on the rocks not less than two months, without any 
sustenance, v/hen they return much emaciated to the sea. 

Bears of various species and colors, many varieties of the fox, the wolf, the 
beaver, the otter, the marten, the racoon, the badger, the wolverine, the mink. th«i 
lynx, the muskrat, the woodchuck, the rabbit, the hare, and the squirrel, are natives 
of North America. 



APPENDIX. 3g3 

The beaver, otter, lynx, fisher, liare, and racoon, are used principally for hats; 
while the bears of several vai-ieties furnish an excellent material for sleigh linings 
for cavalry caps, and other militaiy equipments. The fur of the black fox is the 
most valuable of any of the American vaiieties; and next to that the red, which is 
expo)'ted to Cliina and Smyrna. In China, the red is employed for trimmings, lin- 
ings, and robes, the latter being variegated by adding the black fur of the paws, iu 
spots or waves. There are many other varieties of American fox, such as the gray, 
the white, the cross, the silver, and the dun-colored. The silver fox is a rare ani- 
mal, a native of the woody country below the falls of the Columbia River. It has a 
long, thick, deep lead-colored fur, intermingled with long hairs, invariably white at 
the top, forming a bright lustrous silver gray, esteemed by some more beautiful 
than any other kind of fox. 

The skins of the buffalo, of the Rocky Mountain sheep, of various deer and of the 
antelope, are included in the fur trade with the Indians and trappers of the north 
and west. 

Fox and seal skins are sent from Greenland to Denmark. The white fur of the 
arctic fox and polar bear is sometimes found in the packs brought to the traders by 
the most nortliern tribes of Indians, but is not particularly valuable. The silver- 
tipped rabbit is peculiar to England, and is sent thence to Russia and China. 

Other furs are employed and valued according to the caprices of fashion as weU 
in those countries where they are needed for defences against severity of the sea- 
sons, as among the inhabitants of milder climates, who, being of Tartar or Sclavon- 
ian descent, are said to inherit an attachment to furred clothing. Such are the 
inhabitants of Poland, of Southern Russia, of China, of Persia, of Turkey and all 
the nations of Gothic origin in the middle and western parts of Europe. Under the 
burning suns of Syria and Egypt and the mild climes of Bucharia and Independent 
Tartary, there is also a constant demand, and a great consumption, where there 
exists no physical necessity. In our own temperate latitudes besides their use in 
the arts, they are in request for warmth during the winter, and large quantities are 
annually consumed for both pui-poses iu the United States. 

From the foregoing statements it appears that the fur trade must henceforward 
decline. The advanced state of geographical science shows that no new courJ;i-ies 
remain to be explored. In North America the a-nimals are slowly decreasing, fiom 
the persevering efforts and the indiscriminate slaughter practised by the hunters, 
and by the appropriation to the uses of man of those forests and rivers which have 
afforded them food and protection. They recede with the aborigines, before the 
tide of civilization ; but a diminished supply will remain in the mouwtains and un- 
cultivated tracts of this and other countries, if the avidity of the hunter can be 
restrained within proper limitations. 

Height of the Rocky Mountains. 

Various estimates have been made of the height of the Rocky Moimtains, but it 
is doubtfvd whether any have, as yet, done justice to their real altitude, which 
promises to place them only second to the highest mountains of the known world. 
Their height has been diminished to the eye by the great elevation of the plains 
fr(>m which they rise. They consist, according to Long, of ridges, knobs, and 
peaks, variously disposed. The more elevated parts are covered with perpetual 
snows, which contribute to give them a luminous, and, at a great distance, even a 
bi-illiant appearance ; whence they derived, among some of the first discoverers, the 
name of the Shining Mountains. 

James's Peak has generally been cited as the highest of the chain ; and its eleva- 
tion above the common level has been ascertained, by a trigonometrical measure- 
ment, to be about eight thousand five htmdred feet. Mr. Long, however, judged, 
from the position of the snow near the summits of other peafcs and ridges at no 
great distance from it. that they were much higher. Having heard Professor Ren- 
wiek, of New York, express an altitude of these mountains far beyond what had 



384 APPENDIX. 

usually been ascribed to them, we applied to him for the authority on which he 
grounded his observation, and here subjoin his reply : 

Columbia College, New York, Feb. 23, 1836. 

Dear Sir : In compliance with your request, I have to communicate some facts 
in relation to the height of the Rocky Mountains, and the sources whence I obtained 
the information. 

In conversation with Simon M'Gillivray, Esq., a partner of the Northwest Com- 
pany, he stated to me his impression, that the mountains in the vicinity of the 
route pursued by the traders.of that company were nearly as high as the Himalay- 
as. He had himself crossed by this route, seen the snowy summits of the peaks-, 
and experienced a degree of cold which required a spirit thermometer to indicate it. 
His authority for the estimate of the heights was a gentleman who had been em- 
ployed for several years as surveyor of that company. This conversation oc- 
curred about sixteen years since. 

A year or two after I had the pleasure of dining at Major Delafield's with Mr. 
Thompson, the gentleman referred to by Mr. M'Gillivray. I inquired of him in 
relation to the circumstances mentioned by Mr. M'Gillivray, and he stated that, by 
the joint means of the barometric and trigonometric measurement, he had ascer- 
tained Wa height of one of the peaks to be about twentj'-five thousand feet, and 
there were others of nearly the same height in the vicinitj'. 

I am, dear sir, yours truly, 

JAMES RENWICK. 

To W. Irving, Esq. 

Suggestions with respeci to the Indian Tribes, and the Protection of our Trade. 

In the course of this work, a few general remarks have been hazarded respecting 
the Indian tribes of the prairies, and the dangers to be apprehended from them in 
future times to our trade beyond the Rocky Mountains and with the Spanish fron- 
tiers. Since writing those remarks, we have met with some excellent observations 
and suggestions, in manuscript, on the same subject, written by Captain Bonneville, 
of the United States army, who has lately returned from a long residence among 
the tribes of the Rocky Mountains. Captain B. approves highly of the plan i-ecently 
adopted by the United Ctates government for the organization of a regiment of 
dragoons for the protection of our western frontier, and the trade across the prai- 
ries. "No other species of military force," he observes, "is at all competent to 
cope with these restless and wandering hordes, who require to be opposed with 
swiftness quite as much as with strength; and the consciousness that a troop, uni- 
ting these qualifications, is always on the alert to avenge their outrages upon the 
settlers and traders, will go very far toward restraining them from the perpetration 
of those thefts and murders which they have heretofore committed with impunity, 
whenever stratagem or siiperiority of force has given them the advantage. Tlieir 
interest already has done something toward their pacification with our country- 
men. From the traders among them, they receive their suppHes in the greatest 
abundance, and upon very equitable terms; and when it is rememljered tliat a very 
coiiisiderable amovuit of property is yearly distributed amoTig them bj^ tiie govern- 
ment, as presents, it will readily be perceived that tliey are greatly dependent upon 
us for their most valued resources. If, superadded to this inducement, a frequent 
display of military power be made in their territories, there can be little doubt that 
the desired secuiity and peace will be speedily afforded to our own people. But 
the idea of establishing a permanent amity and concord among the various east 
and west tribes themselves, seems to me, if not wholly impracticable, at least infin- 
itely more difficult than many excellent pliilanthropists have hoped and believed. 
Those nations which have so lately emigrated from the luidst of our settlements to 
live upon our western borders, and have made some progress in agiicultureand the 



^ APPENDIX. 385 

arts of civilization, have, in the property they have acquired, and the protection 
and aid extended to them, too many advantages to be induced readily to take up 
arms against us, particularly if they can be brought to the full conviction that their 
new homes will be permanent and undisturbed; and tliei-e is every reason and. 
motive, in policy as well as humanity, for our ameliorating their condition by every 
means in our power. But the case is far different with regard to the Osages, the 
Kanzas, the PawL^es, and other roving hordes beyond the frontiers of the settle- 
ments. Wild and restless in their character and habits, they are by no means so 
susceptible of control or civilization; and they are urged by strong, and, to tliem, 
irresistible causes in their situation and ::ecessities, to the daily pei-petration of vio- 
lence and fraud. Their permanent subsistence, for example, is derived from the 
buffalo hunting grounds, which lie a great distance from their towns. Twice a 
yt-ar xh^-y are obliged to make long and dangerous expeditions, to procure the neces- 
sary provisions for themselves and their families. For this purpose horses are 
absolutely requisite, for their own comfort and safety, as well as for the transpor- 
tation of their food and their little stock of valuables; and without them they would 
be reduced, during a great portion of the year, to a state of abject misery and pri- 
vation. They have no brood mares, nor any trade sufficiently valuable to supply 
their 3-early losses, and endeavor to keep up their stock by stealing horses from 
the other tribes to the west and south-west. Our own people, and the tribes inmie- 
diately upon our borders, maj^ indeed be protected from their depredations; and 
the Kanzas, Osages, Pawnees, and otliers, may be induced to i-emain at peace 
among themselves, so long as they are permitted to pursue the old custom of levy- 
ing upon the Camanches and other remote nations for their complement of steeds 
for the warriors, and pack-horses for their transportations to and from the hunting 
ground. But the instant they are forced to maintain a peaceful and inoffensive 
demeanor toward the tribes along the Mexican border, and find that every violation 
of their rights is followed by the avenging arm of our government, the result must 
be, that, reduced to a wretchedness and want which they can ill brook, and feeling 
the certainty of punishment for every attempt to ameliorate their condition in the 
only way they as yet comprehend, they will abandon their unfruitful territory and 
remove to the neighborhood of the Mexican lands, and there carry on a vigorous 
predatory warfare indiscriminately upon the Mexicans and our own people trading 
or travelling in that quarter. 

" The Indians of the prairies are almost innumerable. Their superior horseman- 
ship, which, in my opinion, far exceeds that of any other people on the face of the 
earth, their daring bravery, their cimning and skill in the warfare of the wilderness, 
and the astonishing rapidity and secrecy with which they are accustomed to move 
in their martial expeditions, will always render them most dangerous and vexatious 
neighbors, when their necessities or their discontents may drive them to hostility 
with our frontiers. Their mode and principles of warfare will always protect them 
from final and irretrievable defeat, and secure their families from participating in 
any blow however severe, which our retribution might deal out to them. 

"The Camanches lay the Mexicans imder contribution for horses and mules, 
which they are always engaged in stealing from them in incredible numbers; and 
from the Camanches, ail the roving tribes of the far West, by a similar exertion of 
skill and daring, supply themselves in turn. It seems to me, therefore, under all 
these circumstances, that the apparent futility of any philanthropic schemes for 
the benefit of these nations, and a regard for our own protection, concur in recom- 
mending that we remain satisfied with maintaining peace upon our own immediate 
borders, and leave the Mexicans and the Camanches, and all the tribes hostile to 
these last, to settle their differences and diificulties in their own way. 

'•In order to give full security and prorc-ction to our trading parties circulating 
in all directions through the great prairies, I am under the impression that a few 
judicious measures on the part of the government, involving a very limited expense, 
would be sufficient. And, in attaining this end, which of itself has already become 
an object of public interest and import, another, of much greater consequence, 



386 APPENDIX. 

might be brought about, viz., the securing to the States a most valuable and in- 
creasing trade, now carried on by caravans directly to Santa Fe. 

" As to the first desideratum: the Indians can only be made to respect the lives 
and property of the American parties, by rendering them dependent upon us for 
their supplies; which can alone be done with complete effect by the estabhshnient 
of a trading post, with resident traders, at some point which will unite a sufficient 
number of advantages to attract the several tribes to itself, in preference to their 
present places of resort for that purpose; for it is a well-known fact that the Indians 
will always protect their trader, and those in whom he is interested, so long as they 
derive benefits from him. The alternative presented to those at the north, by the 
residence of the agents of the Hudson's Bay Company among them, renders the 
condition of our people in that quarter less secure ; but I think it will appear, at 
once upon the most cursory examination, that no such opposition further south 
could be maintained, so as to weaken the benefits of such an establishment as is 
here suggested. 

•' In considering this matter, the first question which presents itself is. Where do 
these tribes now make their exchanges, and obtain their necessary supplies? They 
resort almost exclusively to the Mexicans, who themselves purchase from us what- 
ever the Indians most seek for. In this point of view, therefore, cceteris paribus, 
it would be an easy matter for us to monopolize the whole traffic. All that is want- 
ing is some location more convenient for the natives than that offered by the Mexi- 
cans, to give us the undisputed superiority ; and the selection of such a point re- 
quires but a knowledge of the single fact, that these nations invariably winter upon 
the head waters of the Arkansas, and there prepare all their buffalo robes for 
trade. These robes are heavy, and to the Indian very difficult of transportation. 
Nothing but necessity induces them to travel any great distance with such inconve- 
nient baggage. A post, therefore, established upon the headwaters of the Arkansas, 
must infallibly secure an uncontested preference over that of the Mexicans, even at 
their prices and rates of barter. Then let the dragoons occasionally move about 
among these people in large parties, impressing them with the proper estimate of 
our power to protect and to punish, and at once we have complete and assured 
security for all citizens whose enterprise may lead them beyond the border, and an 
end to the outrages and depredations which now dog the footsteps of the traveller 
in the prairies, and arrest and depress the most advantageous commerce. Such a 
post need not be stronger than fifty men; twenty -five to be employed as hunters, to 
supply the garrison, and the residue as a defence against any hostility. Situated 
here upon the good lands of the Arkansas, in the midst of abundance of timber, 
while it might be kept up at a most inconsiderable expense, such an establishment 
within ninety miles of Santa Fe or Taos would be more than justified by the other 
and more important advantages before alluded to, leaving the protection of the 
traders with the Indian tribes entirely out of the question. 

" This great trade, carried on by caravans to Santa Fe, annually loads one hun- 
dred wagons with merchandise, which is bartered in the northern provinces of 
Mexico for cash and for beaver furs. The numerous articles excluded as contra- 
band, and the exorbitant duties laid upon all those that are admitted by the Mexi- 
can government, present so many obstacles to commerce, that I am well persuaded 
that if a post, such as is here suggested, should be established on the Arkansas, it 
would become the place of deposit, not only foi- the pi-esent trade, but for one infi- 
nitely more extended. Here the Mexicans might purchase their supplies, and might 
well afford to sell them at prices which would silence all competition from any 
other quarter. 

"These two trades, with the Mexicans and the Indians, centering at this post, 
would give rise to a large village of traders and laborers, and would undoubtedly 
be hailed, by all that section of country, as a permanent and invaluable advantage. 
A few pack-horses woidd carry all the clothing and ammunition necessary for the 
post during the first year, and two light field-pieces would be all the artillery re- 
quired for its defence. Afterward, all the horses required for the use of the estab- 



APPENDIX. 387 

lisbment might be purchased from the Mexicans at the low price of ten dollars each ; 
and, at the same time, whatever animals might be needed to supply the losses 
among the dragoons traversing the neighborhood, could be readily procured. The 
Upper Missouri Indians can furnish horses, at very cheap rates, to any number of 
the same troops who might be detailed for the defence of the northern frontier; 
and, in other respects, a very limited outlay of money would suffice to maintain a 
post in that section of the ccfimtry. 

"From these considerations, and my own personal observation, I am, therefore, 
disposed to believe that two posts established by the government, one at the mouth 
of the Yellow Stone River, and one on the Arkansas, would completely protect all 
our people in every section of the great wilderness of the West; while other advan- 
tages, at least with regard to one of them, confirm and urge the suggestion. A fort 
at the mouth of Yellow Stone, garrisoned by fifty men, would be perfectly safe. 
The establishment might be constructed simply with a view to the stores, stables 
for the dragoons' horses, and quarters for the regular garrison ; the rest being pro- 
vided with sheds or lodges, erected in the vicinity, for their residence during the 
winter months." 



THE EN© 



A TOUli 



OF 



THE PEAIEIES. 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 



NEW YORK: 

WORTHINGTON CO. 
747 Broadway. 



in-r 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PA.GB 

Introduction *. 5 

I. The Pawnee Hunting Grounds — Travelling Companions — A Commis- 
sioner — A Virtuoso— A Seeker of Adventures— A Gil Bias of the 
Frontier— A Young Man's Anticipations of Pleasure 7 

II. Anticipations Disappointed — New Plans— Preparations to Join an Ex- 
ploring Party — Departure from Fort Gibson — Fording of the Ver- 
digris—An Indian Cavalier 10 

III. An Indian Agency— Riflemen— Osages, Creeks, Trappers, Dogs, Horses, 

Half-breeds— Beatte, the Huntsman 13 

IV. The Departure .• 16 

V. Frontier Scenes— A Lycurgus of the Border— Lynch's Law— The 

Danger of Finding a Horse— The Young Osage 17 

VI. Trail of the Osage Hunters— Departure of the Count and his Party — A 

Deserted War-Camp— A Vagrant Dog— The Encampment 21 

VII. News of the Rangers — The Coimt and his Indian Squire— Halt in the 
Woods— Woodland Scene — Osage Village — Osage Visitors at our 
Evening Camp 23 

Vm. The Honey Camp 28 

IX. A Bee Hunt -30 

X, Amusements in the Camp — Consultations— Hunters' Fare and Feast- 
ing—Evening Scenes— Camp Melody —The Fate of an Amateur Owl. 28 

XI. Breaking up of the Encampment— Picturesque March— Game— Camp 
Scenes— Triumph of a Yoimg Himter— 111 Success of an Old Hunter 
—Foul Murder of a Pole Cat 37 

X H. The Crossing of the Arkansas 42 

Xni. The Camp of the Glen— Camp Gossip— Pawnees and their Habits— A 

Hunter's Adventure — Horses found and Men Lost 44 

XrV. Deer Shooting— Life on the Prairies— Beautiful Encampment— Hunter's 

Luck — Anecdotes of the Delawares and their Superstitions 50 

XV. The Search for the Elk— Pawnee Stories 54 



4 . CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XVI. A Sick Camp— The March— The Disabled Horse — Old Ryan and the 
Stragglers — Symptoms of change of Weather and change of 
Humors 59 

XVn. Thunder-storm on the Prairies — The Storm Encampment — Night 

Scene— Indian Stories— A Frightened Horse 63 

XVin. A Grand Prairie — Cliff Castle — Buffalo Tracks— Deer Hunted by 

Wolves — Cross Timber 66 

XIX. Hunter's Anticipations— The Rugged Ford— A Wild Horse 09 

XX. The Camp of the Wild Horse— Hunters' Stories— Habits of the AVild 
Horse — The Half-breed and his Prize — A Horse Chase— A Wild Spirit 
Tamed 72 

XXI. The Fording of the Red Fork— The Dreary Forests of the " Cross 

Timber"— Buffalo ! 77 

XXH. The Alarm Camp 80 

XXIII. Beaver Dam — Buffalo and Horse Tracks — A Pawnee Trail — Wild 

Horses — The Young Huntey and the Bear — Change of Route 86 

XXIV. Scarcity of Bread— Rencontre with Buffaloes— Wild Turkeys— Fall of a 

Buffalo Bull 89 

XXV. Ringing the Wild Horse 93 

XXVI. Fording of the North Fork— Dreary Scenery of the Cross Timber- 
Scamper of Horses in the Night— Osage War Party— Effects of a 
Peace Harangue— Buffalo— Wild Horse 95 

XXVII. Foul Weather Encampment — Anecdotes of Bear Hunting — Indian 

Notions about Omens— Scruples respecting the Dead 98 

XXVIII. A Secret Expedition— Deer Bleating— Magic Bells 105 

XXIX. The Grand Prairie— A Buffalo Hunt 108 

XXX. A Comrade Lost— A Search for the Camp— Commissioner, the Wild 

Horse, and the Buffalo— A Wolf Serenade 115 

XXXI. A Hinit for a Lost Comrade 117 

XXXII. A Republic of Prairie Dogs 131 



Ij^TEODUCTIO]^. 



Having, since my return to the United States, made a wide 
and varied tour, for the gratification of my curiosity, it has 
been supposed that I did it for the purpose of writing a book ; 
and it has more than once been intimated in the papers, that 
such a work was actually in the press, containing scenes and 
sketches of the Far West. 

These announcements, gratuitously made for me, before I 
had put pen to paper, or even contemplated any thing of the 
kind, have embarrassed me exceedingly. I have been like a 
poor actor, who finds himself annomiced for a part he had no 
thought of playing, and his appearance expected on the stage 
before he has coinmitted a fine to memory. 

I have always had a repugnance, amounting almost to dis- 
ability, to write in the face of expectation ; and, in the present 
instance, I was expected to write about a region fruitful of 
wonders and adventures, and whi h had already been mada 
the theme of spirit-stirring narratives from able pens; yet 
about which I had nothing wonderful or adventurous to oft'er. 

Since such, however, seems to be the desire of the public, 
and that they take suflScient interest in my wanderings to 
deem them worthy of recital, I have hastened, as promptly as 
possible, to meet, in some degree, the expectation which others 
have excited. For this purpose, I have, as it were, plucked a 
few leaves out of my memorandu:*! book, containing a month's 
foray beyond the outposts of human habitation, into the wilder- 
ness of the Far West. It forms, indeed, but a smaU portion 
of an extensive tour; but it is an episode, complete as far as it 
goes. As such, I offer it to the public, with great diffidence. 
It is a sunple narrative of overy-day occurrences; such as 
happen to every one who travels the prairies. I have no won- 
ders to describe, nor any moving accidents by flood or field to 
narrate ; and as to those who look for a marvellous or adven- 
turous story at my hands, I can only reply, in the words of 
the weary knife-grinder: " Story ! God bless you, I have none 
to tell, su\" 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE PAWNEE HUNTING GROUNDS. —TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.— 
A COMMISSIONER. — A VIRTUOSO.— A SEEKER OF ADVENTURES. 
— A GIL BLAS OF THE FRONTIER. — A YOUNG MAN's ANTICIPA- 
TIONS OF PLEASURE. 

In the often vaunted regions of the Far West, several hun- 
dred miles beyond the Mississippi, extends a vast tract of un- 
inhabited country, where there is neither to be seen the log- 
house of the white man, nor the wigwam of the Indian. It 
consists of great grassy plams, interspersed with forests and 
groves, and clumps of trees, and watered by the Arkansas, the 
grand Canadian, the Red River, and their tributary streams. 
Over these fertile and verdant wastes still roam the elk, the 
buffalo, and the wild horse, in all their native freedom. These, 
in fact, are the hunting grounds of the various tribes of the 
Far West. Hither repair the Osage, the Creek, the Delaware 
and other tribes that have linked themselves with civilization, 
and live within the vicinity of the white settlements. Here 
resort also, the Pawnees, the Comanches, and other fierce, 
and as yet independent tribes, the nomads of the prairies, or 
the inhabitants of the skirts of the Rocky Mountains. The 
regions I have mentioned form a debatable ground of these 
warring and vindictive tribes ; none of them presume to erect 
a permanent habitation within its borc'ers. Their hunters 
and "Braves" repair thither in numerous bodies during the 
season of game, throw up their transient hunting camps, con- 
sisting of light bowers covered with bark and skins, conmiit 
sad havoc among the innumerable herds that graze the prairies, 
and having loaded themselves with venison and buffalo meat, 
warily retire from the dangerous neighborhood. These expe- 
ditions partake, always, of a warlike character; the huntei-a 



8 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

are all armed for action, offensive and defensive, and are bound 
to incessant vigilance. Should they, in their excursions, meet 
the hunters of an adverse tribe, savage conflicts take place. 
Their encampments, too, are always subject to be surprised 
by wandering war parties, and their hunters, when scattered 
in pursuit of game, to be captured or massacred by lurking 
foes. Mouldering skulls and skeletons, bleaching in some dark 
ravine, or near the traces of a hunting camp, occasionally luark 
the scene of a foregone act of blood, and let the wanderer know 
the dangerous nature of the region he is traversing. It is 
the purport of the following pages to narrate a month's ex- 
cursion to these noted hunting grounds, through a tract of 
country which had not as yet been explored by white men. 

It was early in October, 1832, that I arrived at Fort Gibson, 
a frontier post of the Far West, situated on the Neosho, or 
Grand Kiver, near its confluence with the Arkansas. I had 
been travelling for a month past, with a small party from St. 
Louis, up the banks of the Missouri, and along the frontier 
line of agencies and missions that extends from the Missouri 
to the Arkansas. Our party was headed by one of the Com- 
missioners appointed by the government of the United States, 
to superintend the settlement of the Indian tribes migrating 
from the east to the west of the Mississippi. In the discharge 
of his duties, he was thus visiting the various outposts of civili- 
zation. 

And here let me bear testimony to the merits of this worthy 
leader of our little band. He was a native of one of the towns 
of Connecticut, a man in whom a course of legal practice and 
political life had not been able to vitiate an innate simplicity 
and benevolence of heart. The greater part of his days had 
been passed in the bosom of Ms family and the society of dea- 
cons, elders, and selectmen, on the peaceful banks of the Con- 
necticut; when suddenly he had been called to mount his 
steed, shoulder his rifle, and mingle among stark hunters, 
backwoodsmen, and naked savages, on the trackless wilds of 
the Far West. 

Another of my fellow-travellers was Mr. L. , an Englishman 
by birth, but descended from a foreign stock ; and who had all 
the buoyancy and accommodating spirit of a native of the 
Continent. Having rambled over many countries, he had be- 
come, to a certain degree, a citizen of the world, easily adapt- 
ing himself to any change. He was a man of a thousand 
occupations; a botanist, a geologist, a hunter of beetles and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 9 

butterflies, a musical amateur, a sketcher of no mean preten- 
sions, in short, a complete virtuoso; added to which, he was a 
very indefatigable, if not always a very successful, sportsman. 
Never had a man more irons in the fire, and, consequently, 
never was man more busy nor more cheerful. 

My third fellow-traveller was one who had accompanied the 
former from Europe, and travelled with him as his Telema- 
chus ; being apt, like his prototype, to give occasional perplex- 
ity and disquiet to his Mentor. He was a young Swiss Count, 
scarce twenty-one years of age, full of talent and spirit, but 
galUard in the extreme, and prone to every kind of wild ad- 
venture. 

Having made this mention of my comrades, I must not pass 
over unnoticed, a personage of inferior rank, but of all-per- 
vading and prevalent importance : the squire, the groom, the 
cook, the tent man, in a word, the factotum, and, I may add, 
the universal meddler and marplot of our party. This was a 
little swarthy, meagre, French Creole, named Antoine, but 
familiarly dubbed Tonish: a kind of Gil Bias of the frontier, 
who had passed a scrambhng life, sometimes among white 
men, sometimes among Indians ; sometimes in the employ of 
traders, missionaries, and Indian agents; sometimes mingling 
with the Osage hunters. We picked him up at St. Louis, near 
which he had a small farm, an Indian wife, and a brood of 
half-blood children. According to his own account, however, 
he had a wife in every tribe ; in fact, if all this little vagabond 
said of himseK were to be believed, he was without morals, 
without caste, without creed, without country, and even with- 
out language ; for he spoke a jargon of mingled French, En- 
ghsh, and Osage. He was, withal, a notorious braggart, and a 
liar of the first water. It was amusing to hear him vapor and 
gasconade about his terrible exploits and hairbreadth escapes 
in war and hunting. In the midst of his volubility, he was 
prone to be seized by a spasmodic gasping, as if the springs 
of his jaws were suddenly unhinged ; but I am apt to think it 
was caused by some falsehood that stuck in his throat, for I 
generally remarked that immediately afterward there bolted 
forth a lie of the first magnitude. 

Our route had been a pleasant one, quartering ourselves, oc- 
casionally, at the widely separated establishments of the Indian 
missionaries, but in general camping out in the fine groves 
that border the streams, and sleeping under cover of a tent. 
During the latter part of our tour we had pressed forward, in 



10 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

hopes of arriving in time at Fort Gibson to accompany the 
Osage hunters on their autmnnal visit to the buffalo prairies. 
Indeed the imagination of the young Count had become com- 
pletely excited on the subject. The grand scenery and wild 
habits of the prairies had set his spirits madding, and the 
stories that little Tonish told him of Indian braves and Indian 
beauties, of hunting buffaloes and catching wild horses, had 
set liim all agog for a dash into savage life. He was a bold 
and hard rider, and longed to be scouring the hunting gi^ounds. 
It was amusing to hear his youthful anticipations of all that 
he was to see, and do, and enjoy, when mingling among the 
Indians and participating in their hardy adventures ; and it 
was still more amusing to listen to the gasconadings of little 
Tonish, who volunteered to be his faithful squire in all his 
perilous undertakings; to teach him how to catch the wild 
horse, bring down the buffalo, and win the smiles of Indian 
princesses; — "And if we can only get sight of a prairie on 
fire!" said the young Count — " By Gar, I'll set one on fire my- 
self !" cried the little Frenchman. 



CHAPTER II. 



ANTICIPATIONS DISAPPOINTED. — NEW PLANS. — PREPARATIONS TO 
JOIN AN EXPLORING PARTY. —DEPARTURE FROM FORT GIBSON. 
— FORDING OF THE VERDIGRIS. — AN INDIAN CAVALIER. 

The anticipations of a young* man are prone to meet with 
disappointment. Unfortunately for the% Count's scheme of 
wild campaigning, before we reached the end of our journey, 
we heard that the Osage hunters had set forth upon their ex- 
pedition to the buffalo grounds. The Count still determined, 
if possible, to follow on their track and overtake them, and for 
this purpose stopped short at the Osage Agency, a few miles 
distant from Fort Gibson, to make inquiries and preparations. 
His travelling companion, Mr. L., stopped with him; while the 
Commissioner and myself proceeded to Fort Gibson, followed 
by the faithful and veracious Tonish. I hinted to him his 
promises to follow the Count in his campaignings, but I found 
the little varlet had a ]?:een eye to self-interest. He was aware 
that the Commissioner, from his official duties, would remain 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIE8. l\ 

for a long time in the country, and be likely to give him perma- 
nent employment, while the sojourn of the Count would be 
but transient. The gasconading of the little braggart was 
suddenly therefore at an end. He spake not another word to 
the young Count about Indians, buffaloes, and wild horses, 
but putting liimself tacitly in the train of the Commissioner, 
jogged silently after us to the garrison. 

On arriving at the fort, however, a new chance presented 
itself for a cruise on the prairies. We learnt that a company 
of mounted rangers, or riflemen, had departed but three days 
previous to make a wide exploring tour from the Arkansas to 
the Red River, including a part of the Pawnee hunting grounds 
where no party of white men had as yet penetrated. Here, 
then, was an opportunity of ranging over those dangerous and 
interesting regions under the safeguard of a powerful escort ; 
for the Commissioner, in virtue of his office, could claim the 
service of this newly raised corps of riflemen, and the country 
they were to explore was destined for the settlement of some 
of the migrating tribes connected with his mission. 

Our plan was promptly formed .and put into execution. A 
couple of Creek Indians were sent off express, by the com- 
mander of Fort Gibson, to overtake the rangers and bring 
them to a halt until the Commissioner and his party should 
be able to join them. As we should have a march of three 
or four days through a wild country before we could over- 
take the company of rangers, an escort of fourteen mounted 
riflemen, under the command of a lieutenant, was assigned us. 

We sent word to the young Count and Mr. L. at the Osage 
Agency, of our new plan and prospects, and invited them to 
accompany us. The Count, however, could not forego the de- 
lights he had promised himself in mmgling with absolutely 
savage life. In reply, he agreed to keep with us until we 
should come upon the trail of the Osage hunters, when it was 
his fixed resolve to strike off into the wilderness in pursuit of 
them; and his faithful ]\Ientor, though he grieved at the mad- 
ness of the scheme, was too stanch a friend to desert him. A 
general rendezvous of our party and escort was appointed, for 
the following morning, at the Agency. 

We now made all arrangements for prompt departure. Our 
baggage had hitherto been transported on a hght wagon, but we 
were now to break our way through an untravelled country, 
cut up by rivers, ravines, and thickets, where a vehicle of the 
kind would be a comi^lete impediment. We were to travel on 



12 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

horseback, in hunter's style, and with as Httle encumbrance as 
possible. Our baggage, therefore, underwent a rigid and most 
abstemious reduction, A pair of saddle-bags, and those by no 
means crammed, sufficed for each man's scanty wardrobe, and, 
with his great coat, were to be carried upon the steed he rode. 
The rest of the baggage was placed on pack-horses. Each 
one had a bear-skin and a couple of blankets for bedding, and 
there was a tent to shelter us in case of sickness or bad 
weather. We took care to provide ourselves with flour, coffee, 
and sugar, together with a small supply of salt pork for emer- 
gencies ; for our main subsistence we were to depend upon the 
chase. 

Such of our horses as had not been tired out in our recent 
journey, were taken with us as pack-horses, or supernumera- 
ries ; but as we were going on a long and rough tour, where 
there would be occasional hunting, and where, in case of meet- 
ing with hostile savages, the safety of the rider might depend 
upon the goodness of his steed, we took care to be well 
mounted. I procured a stout silver-gray; somewhat rough, 
but stanch and powerful ; and retained a hardy pony which I 
had hitherto ridden, and which, being somewhat jaded, was 
suffered to ramble along with the pack-horses, to be mounted 
only in case of emergency. 

A 11 these arrangements being made, we left Fort Gibson, on 
the morning of tke tenth of October, and crossing the river in 
front of it, set off for the rendezvous at the Agency. A ride of 
a few miles brought us to the ford of the Verdigris, a wild 
rocky scene overhung with forest trees. We descended to the 
bank of the river and crossed in straggling file, the horses 
stepping cautiously from rock to rock, and in a manner feeling 
about for a foothold beneath the rushing and brawling stream. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonish, brought up the rear with the 
pack-horses. He was in high glee, having experienced a kmd 
of promotion. In our journey hitherto he had driven the 
wagon, which he seemed to consider a very inferior employ ; 
now he was master of the horse. 

He sat perched like a monkey behind the pack on one of the 
horses ; he sang, he shouted, he yelped like an Indian, and ever 
and anon blasphemed the loitering pack-horses in his jargon of 
mingled French, English, and Osage, which not one of them 
could understand. 

As we were crossing the ford we saw on the opposite shore a 
Creek Indian on horseback. He had paused to reconnoitre us 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 13 

from the brow of a rock, and formed a picturesque object, in 
unison with the wild scenery around him. He wore a bright 
blue hunting-shirt trimmed with scarlet fringe; a gayly col- 
ored handkerchief was bound round his head something like a 
turban, with, one end hanging down beside his ear ; he held a 
long rifle in his hand, and looked like a wild Arab on tbe 
prowl. Our loquacious and ever-meddling little Frenclmian 
called out to him in his Babylonish jargon, but the savage hav- 
ing satisfied his curiosity tossed his hand in the air, turned the 
head of his steed, and galloping along the shore soon disap- 
peared among the trees. 



CHAPTER ni. 



AN INDIAN AGENCY. — RIFLEMEN. — OS AGES, CREEKS, TRAPPERS, 
DOGS, HORSES, HALF-BREEDS. — BEATTE, THE HUNTSMAN. 

Having crossed the ford, we soon reached the Osage Agency, 
where Col. Choteau has liis offices arid magazines, for the de- 
spatch of Indian affairs^ and the distribution of presents and 
siipphes. It consisted of a few log houses on the banks of the 
river, and presented a motley frontier scene. Here was our 
escort awaiting our arrival ; some were on horseback, some on 
loot, some seated on the trunks of fallen trees, some shooting 
at a mark. They were a heterogeneous crew ; some in frock- 
coats made of green blankets; others in leathern hunting- 
shirts, but the most part in marvellously ill-cut garments, 
much the worse for wear, and evidently put on for rugged ser- 
vice. 

Near by these was a group of Osages : stately fellows ; stern 
and simple in garb and aspect. They wore no ornaments; 
their dress consisted merely of blankets, leggings, and mocca- 
sons. Their heads were bare ; their hair was cropped close, ex- 
cepting a bristling ridge on the top, like the crest of a helmet, 
with a long scalp-lock hanging behind. They had fine Roman 
countenances, and broad deep chests ; and, as they generally 
wore their blankets wrapped round their loins, so as to leave 
+]ic bust and arms bare, they looked Mke so many noble bronze 
figures. The Osages are the finest looking Indians I have ever 
seen in the West. They have not yielded sufficiently, as yet, to 



14 A TOUR ON THE P: A TRIES. 

the influence of civilization to lay tj their simple Indian garb, 
or to lose the habits of the hunter and the warrior ; and their 
poverty prevents their indulging in much luxury of apparel. 

In contrast to these was a gayly dressed party of Creeks. 
There is something, at the first glance, quite oriental in the 
appearance of this tribe. They dress in calico hunting shirts, 
of various brilliant colors, decorated with bright fringes, and 
belted with broad girdles, embroidered with beads ; they have 
leggings of dressed deer skins, or of green or scarlet cloth, with 
embroidered knee-bands and tassels ; their moccasons are fan- 
cifully wrought and ornamented, and they wear gaudy hand- 
kerchiefs tastefully bound round their heads. 

Besides these, there was a sprinkMng of trappers, hunters, 
naif -breeds, Creoles, negroes of every hue; and aU that other 
rabble rout of nondescript beings that keep about the fron- 
tiers, between civilized and savage life, as those equivocal 
birds, the bats, hover about the confines of hght and darkness. 

The Httle hamlet of the Agency was in a complete bustle; 
the blacksmith's shed, in particular, was a scene of prepara- 
tion ; a strapping negro was shoeing a horse ; two half-breeds 
were fabricating iron spoons in which to melt lead for bullets. 
An old trapper, in leathern hunting frock and moccasons, had 
placed his rifle against a work-bench, while he superintended 
the operation, and gossiped about his hunting exploits; 
several large dogs were lounging in and out of the shop, or 
sleeping in the sunshine, while a little cur, with head cocked 
on one side, and one ear erect, was watching, with that curi- 
osity common to little dogs, the process of shoeing the horse, 
as if studying the art, or waiting for his turn to be shod. 

Wo found the Count and his companion, the Virtuoso, ready 
for the march. As they intended to overtake the Osages, and 
pass some time in hunting the bufl'alo and the wild horse, they 
had provided themselves accordingly; having, in addition to 
{he steeds which they used for travelling, others of prime 
( aality , which were to be led when on the march, and only to 
bo mounted for the chase. 

They had, moreover, engaged the services of a young man 
named Antoine, a half-breed of French and Osage origin. He 
was to be a kind of Jack-of- all-work ; to cook, to hunt, and to 
take care of the horses ; but he had a vehement propensity to 
do nothing, being one of the worthless brood engendered and 
brought up among the missions. He v/as, moreover, a little 
spoiled by being reallv a handsome voungf fellow, an Adonis of 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIEIES. 15 

the frontier, and still worse by fancying himself highly con- 
nected, his sister being concubine to an opulent white trader ! 

For our own parts, the Commissioner and myself were de- 
sirous, before setting out, to procure another attendant weU 
versed in woodcraft, who might serve us as a hunter ; for our 
little Frenchman would have his hands full when in camp, in 
cooking, and on the march, in taking care of the pack-horses. 
Such an one presented himself, or rather was recommended to 
us, in Pierre Beatte, a half-breed of French and Osage paren- 
tage. We were assured that he was acquainted with all parts 
of the country, having traversed it in all directions, both 
in hunting and war parties ; that he would be of use both as 
guide and interpreter, and that he was a first-rate hunter. 

I confess I did not like his looks when he was first presented 
to me. He was lounging about, in an old hunting frock and 
metasses or leggings, of deer skin, soiled and greased, and 
almost japanned by constant use. He was apparently about 
thirty-six years of age, square and strongly built. His fea- 
tures were not bad, being shaped not unlike those of Napo- 
leon, but sharpened up, with high Indian cheek-bones. 

Perhaps the dusky greenish hue of his complexion, aided his 
resemblance to an old bronze bust I had seen of the Emperor. 
He had, however, a sullen, saturnine expression, set off by a 
slouched woollen hat, and elf locks that hung about his ears. 

Such was the appearance of the man, and liis manners were 
equally unprepossessing. He was cold and laconic ; made no 
promises or professions ; stated the terms he required for the 
services of himself and his horse, which we thought rather 
high, but showed no disposition to abate them, nor any 
anxiety to secure our employ. He had altogether more of 
the red than the white man in his composition ; and, as I had 
been taught to look upon all half-breeds with distrust, as an 
\mcertain and faithless race, I would gladly have dispensed 
with the services of Pierre Beatte. We had no time, however, 
to look out for any one more to our taste, and had to make an 
arrangement with him on the spot. He then set about making 
his preparations for the journey, promising to join us at our 
evening's encampment. 

One thing was yet wanting to fit me out for the Prairies — a 
thoroughly trustworthy steed : I was not yet mounted to my 
mind. The gray I had bought, though strong and serviceable, 
was rough. At the last moment I succeeded in getting an 
excellent animal; a dark bayj powerful, active, generous- 



16 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 

spirited, and in capital condition. I mounted him with exul- 
tation, and transferred the silver gray to Tonish, who Avas in 
such ecstasies at finding himself so completely en Cavalier, 
that I feared he might realize the ancient and well-known pro- 
verb of " a beggar on horseback." 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE DEPARTURE. 

The l©ng-drawn notes of a bugle at length gave the signal 
for departure. The rangers filed off in a straggling line of 
march through the woods : we were soon on horseback and fol- 
lowing on, but were detained by the UTegularity of the pack- 
horses. They were unaccustomed to keep the line, and strag- 
gled from side to side among the thickets, in spite of all the 
pesting and bedeviling of Tonish; who, mounted on his gal- 
lant gray, with a long rifle on his shoulder, worried after them, 
bestowing a superabundance of dry blows and curses. 

We soon, therefore, lost sight of our escort, but managed to 
keep on their track, thridding lofty forests, and entangled 
thickets, and passing by Indian wigwams and negro huts, 
until toward dusk Ave arrived at a frontier farm-house, owned 
by a settler of the name of BerryhiU. It was situated on a 
hill, below which the rangers had encamped in a circular 
grove, on the margin of a stream. The master of the house 
received us civilly, but could offer us no accommodation, for 
sickness prevailed in his family. He appeared himself to be 
in no very thriving condition, for though bulky in frame, he 
had a sallow, unhealthy complexion, and a whiffling double 
voice, shifting abruptly from a treble to a thorough-bass. 

Finding his log house was a mere hospital, crowded with 
invalids, we ordered our tent to be pitched in the farm-yard. 

We had not been long encamped, when our recently engaged 
attendant, Beatte, the Osage half-breed, made his appearance. 
He came mounted on one horse and leading another, which 
seemed to be well packed with supplies for the expedition. 
Beatte was evidently an "old soldier," as to the art of taking 
care of himself and looking out for emergencies. Finding that 
he was in government employ, lieipg engaged by the CommiS' 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 17 

sioner, iie had drawn rations of flour and bacon, and put them 
up so as to be weather-proof. In addition to the horse for the 
road, and for ordinary service, which was a rough, hardy 
animal, he had another for hunting. This was of a mixed 
breed hke himself, being a cross of the domestic stock with the 
wild horse of the prairies ; and a noble steed it was, of generous 
spirit, fine action, and admirable bottom. He had taken care 
to have his horses well shod at the Agency. He came prepared 
at all points for war or hunting : his rifle on his shoulder, his 
powder-horn and bullet-pouch at his side, his hunting-knife 
stuck in liis belt, and coils of cordage at his saddle bow, which 
we were told were lariats, or noosed cords, used in catching the 
wild horse. 

Thus equipped and provided, an Indian hunter on a prairie is 
like a cruiser on the ocean, perfectly independent of the world, 
and competent to self-protection and self -maintenance. Ho 
can cast himself loose from every one, shape his own course, 
and take care of his own fortunes. I thought Beatte seemed to 
feel his independence, and to consider himself superior to us 
all, now that we were launching into the wilderness. He 
maintained a half proud, half sullen look, and great taciturnity, 
and his flrst care was to unpack his horses and put them in 
safe quarters for the night. His whole demeanor was in per- 
fect contrast to our vaporing, chattering, bustling httle French- 
man. The latter, too, seemed jealous of this new-comer. He 
whispered to us that these half-breeds were a touchy, capri- 
cious people, Httle to be depended upon. That Beatte had 
evidently come prepared to take care of himself, and that, at 
any moment in the course of our tour, he would be liable to 
take some sudden disgust or affront, and abandon us at a 
moment's warning : having the means of shifting for himself, 
and being perfectly at home on the prairies. 



CHAPTEtR V. 

FRONTIER SCENES. — A LYCURGUS OF THE BORDER. — LYNCH'S LAW. 
— THE DANGER OF FINDING A HORSE. — THE YOUNG OSAGE. 

On the following morning (October 11), we were on the 
inarch by half -past seven o'clock, and rode through deep rich 
bottoms of aUuvial soil, overgrown with redundant vegetation. 



18 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

and trees of an enormous size. Our soute lay parallel to the 
west bank of the Arkansas, on the borders of which river, near 
the confluence of the Eed Fork, we expected to overtake the 
main body of rangers. For some miles the country was 
sprinkled with Creek villages and farm-houses ; the inhabitants 
of which appeared to have adopted, with considerable facility, 
the rudiments of civilization, and to have thriven in con- 
sequence. Their farms were well stocked, and their houses 
had a look of comfort and abundance. 

We met with numbers of them returning from one of their 
grand games of ball, for which their nation is celebrated. 
Some were on foot, some on horseback; the latter, occasion- 
ally, with gayly dressed females behind them. They are a 
well-made race, muscular and closely knit, with well-turned 
tliighs and legs. They have a gypsy fondness for brilliant 
colors and gay decorations, and are bright and fanciful objects 
when seen at a distance on the prairies. One had a scarlet 
handkerchief bound round his head, surmounted with a tuft of 
black feathers like a cocktail. Another, had a white handker- 
chief, with red feathers; while a third, for want of a plume, 
had stuck in his turban a brilliant bunch of sumach. 

On the verge of the wilderness we paused to inquire our 
way at a log house, owned by a white settler or squatter, a 
tall raw-boned old fellow, with red hair, a lank lantern visage, 
and an inveterate habit of winking with one eye, as if every- 
thing he said was of knowing import. He was in a towering 
passion. One of his horses was missing ; he was sure it had 
been stolen in the night by a straggling party of Osages 
encamped in a neighboring swamp ; but he would have satis- 
faction ! He would make an example of the villains. He had 
accordingly caught down his rifle from the wall, that invariable 
enforcer of right or wrong upon the frontiers, and, having 
saddled his steed, was about to sally forth on a foray into the 
swamp; while a brother squatter, with rifle in hand, stood 
ready to accompany him. 

We endeavored to calm the old campaigner of the prairies, 
by suggesting that his horse might ha^^e strayed into the 
neighboring woods; but he had the frontier propensity to 
charge everything to the Indians, and nothing could dissuade 
him from carrying fire and sword into the swamp. 

After riding a few miles farther we lost the trail of the main 
body of rangers, and became perplexed by a variety of tracks 
made l>y the Indians and settlers. At len^h coming: to a log 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 29 

house, inhabited by a white man, the very last on the frontier 
we found that we, bad wandered from our true course. Taking 
us back for some distance, he again brought us to the right 
trail ; putting ourselves upon which, we took our final depar- 
ture, and launched into the broad wilderness. 

The trail kept on like a stragghng footpath, over hill and 
dale, through brush and brake, and tangled thicket, and open 
prairie. In traversing the wilds it is customary for a partv 
either of horse or foot to follow each other in single file hke the 
Indians ; so that the leaders break the way for those who fol- 
low, and lessen their labor and fatigue. In tliis way, also, the 
number of a party is concealed, the whole leaving but' one 
narrow weU-trampled track to mark their course. 

We had not long regained the trail, when, on emerging from 
a forest, we beheld our raw-boned, hard-winking, hard-riding 
knight-errant of the frontier, descending the slope of a hiU, 
followed by his companion m arms. As he drew near to us' 
the gauntness of his figure and ruefulness of his aspect 
reminded me of the description of the hero of La Mancha, and 
he was equally bent on affairs of doughty enterprise, being 
about to penetrate the thickets of the perilous swamp, within 
wliich the enemy lay ensconced. 

While we were holding a parley with Mm on the slope of the 
hill, we descried an Osage on. horseback issuing out of a skirt 
01 wood about half a mile off, and leading a horse by a halter. 
The latter was mimcdiaiely recognized by oUr hard-winking 
friend as the steed of which he w-as in quest. As the Osage 
drew near, I was struck with his appearance. He was about 
nineteen or twenty years of age, but well grown, with the fine 
Eoman countenance common to his tribe, and as he rode with 
his blanket wrapped round his loins, his naked bust would 
have furnished a model for a statuary. He was mounted on a 
beautiful piebald horse, a mottled white and brown, of the 
wild breed of the prairies, decorated with a broad collar, from 
which hung in front a tuft of horsehair dyed of a bright 
scarlet. 

The youth rode slowly up to us with a frank open air, and 
signified by means of our interpreter Beatte, that the horse he 
was leading had wandered to their camp, and he wag now on 
his way to conduct him back to his owner. 

I had expected to witness an expression of gratitude on the 
part of our hard- favored cavaher, but to my surprise the old 
fellow broke out into a furious passion. He declared that the 



20 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

Indians had carried off his horse in the night, with the inten- 
tion of bringing him home in the morning, and claiming a 
reward for finding him; a common practice, as he afBrmed, 
among the Indians. He was, therefore, for tying the young 
Indian to a tree and giving him a sound lashing; and was quite 
surprised at the burst of indignation which this novel mode of 
' requiting a service drew from us. Such, however, is too often 
the administration of law on the frontier, " Lynch's law," as it 
is technically termed, in which the plaintiff is apt to be witness, 
jury, judge, and executioner, and the defendant to be convicted 
and punished on mere presumption; and in this way, I am 
convinced, are occasioned many of those heart-burnings and 
resentments among the Indians, which lead to retaliation, and 
end in Indian wars. When I compared the open, noble coim- 
tenance and frank demeanor of the young Osage, with the sinis- 
ter visage and high-handed conduct of the frontiersman, I felt 
httle doubt on whose back a lash would be most meritoriously 
bestowed. 

Being thus obliged to content himself with the recovery of 
his horse, without the pleasure of flogging the finder, into the 
bargain the old Lycurgus, or rather Draco, of the frontier, set 
off gi'owHng on his return homeward, followed by his brother 
squatter. 

As for the youthful Osage, we were all prepossessed in his 
favor; the young Count especially, with the sympathies 
proper to his age and incident to his character, had taken 
quite a fancy to him. Nothing would suit but he must have 
the young Osage as a companion and squire in his expedition 
into the wilderness. The youth was easily tempted, and, 
with the prospect of a safe range over the buffalo prairies 
and the promise of a new blanket, he turned his bridle, left 
the swamp and the encampment of his friends behind him, 
and set off to follow the Count in his wanderings in quest 
of the Osage hunters. 

Such is the glorious independence of man in a savage state. 
This youth, with his rifle, his blanket, and his horse, was ready 
at a moment's warning to rove the world ; he carried all his 
worldly effects with him, and in the absence of artificial wants, 
possessed the great secret of personal freedom. We of society 
are slaves, not so much to others as to ourselves ; our super- 
fluities are the chains that bind us, impeding every movement 
of our bodies and thwarting every impulse of our souls. Such, 
at least, were my speculations at the time, though I am not 



A TOUR OF TllhJ PRAIRIES. 21 

sure but that tliey took their tone from the enthusiasm of the 
young Count, who seemed more enchanted than ever with the 
wild chivalry of the prairies, and talked of putting on the In- 
dian dress and adopting the Indian habits during the time he 
hoped to pass with the Osages. 



CHAPTER VI. 

TRAIL OF THE OSAGE HUNTERS..— DEPARTURE OF THE COUNT MiJ) 
HIS PARTY. — A DESERTED WAR CAMP. — A VAGRANT DOG. — THE 
ENCAMPMENT. 

In the course of the morning the trail we were pursuing was 
crossed by another, which struck off through the forest to the 
west in a direct course for the Arkansas River. Beatte, our 
half-breed, after considering it for a moment, pronounced it the 
trail of the Osage hunters ; and that it must lead to the place 
where they had forded the river on their way to the hunting 
grounds. 

Here then the young Count and his companion came to a halt 
and prepared to take leave of us. The most experienced fron- 
tiersmen in the troop remonstrated on the hazard of the under- 
taking. They were about to throw themselves loose in the 
wilderness, with no other guides, guards, or attendants, than 
a young ignorant half-breed, and a still younger Indian. They 
were embarrassed by a pack-horse and two led horses, with 
which they would have to make their way through matted 
forests, and across rivers and morasses. The Osages and Paw 
nees were at war, and they might faU in with some warrior 
party of the latter, who are ferocious foes ; besides, their small 
number, and their valuable horses, would form a great temp- 
tation to some of the straggling bands of Osages loitering 
about the frontier, who might rob them of their horses in 
the night, and leave them destitute and on foot in the midst 
of the prairies. 

Nothing, however, could restrain the romantic ardor of the 
Count for a campaign of buffalo hunting with the Osages, and 
he had a game spirit that seemed always stimulated by the idea, 
of danger. His travelling companion, of discreeter age and 
calmer temperament, was convinced of the rashness of the 
enterprise ; but he could not control the impetuous zeal of his 



22 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

youthful friend, and he was too loyal to leave him to pursue his 
hazardous scheme alone. To our great regret, therefore, we 
saw them abandon the protection of our escort, and strike off 
on their hap-hazard expedition. The old hunters of our party 
shook their heads, and our half-breed, Beatte. predicted all 
kinds of trouble to them ; my only hope was, that they would 
soon meet with perplexities enough to cool the impetuosity of 
the young Count, and induce him to rejoin us. With this idea 
we travelled slowly, and made a considerable halt at noouo 
After resuming our march, we came in sight of the Arkansas, 
It presented a broad and rapid stream, bordered by a beach of 
fine sand, overgrown with willows and cottonwood-trees. 
Beyond the river, the eye wandered over a beautiful champaign 
country, of flowery plains and sloping uplands, diversified by 
groves and clumps of trees, and long screens of woodland ; the 
whole wearing the aspect of complete, and even ornamental 
cultivation, instead of native wildness. Not far from the river, 
on an open eminence, we passed through the recently desei*ted 
camping place of an Osage war party. The frames of the tents 
or wigwams remained, consisting of poles bent into an arch, 
with each end stuck into the ground: these are intertwined 
with twigs and branches, and covered Avith bark and skins. 
Those experienced in Indian lore, can ascertain the -tribe, and 
whether on a hunting or a warlike expedition, by the shape 
and disposition of the wigwams. Beatte pointed out to us, in 
the present skeleton camp, the wigwam in which the chiefs 
had held their consultations around the council-fire; and an 
open area, well trampled down, on vfhich the g^ and wa-r-dance 
had been performed. 

Pursuing our journey, as we were parsing through a forest, 
we were met by a forlorn, half-famished dog, who came ram- 
bling along the trail, with inflamed eyes, and bewildered look. 
Though nearly trampled upon by the foremost rangers, he 
took notice of no one, but rambled heedlessly among the 
horses. The cry of "mad dog" Avas immediately raised, and 
one of the rangers levelled his rifle, but was stayed by the 
ever-ready humanity of the Commissioner. "He is blind!" 
said he. "It is the dog of some poor Indian, following his 
master by the scent. It would be a shame to kiU so faithful 
an animal." The ranger shouldered his rifle, the dog blun- 
dered blindly through the cavalcade unhurt, and keeping 
his nose to the ground, continued his course along the trail, 
affording a rare instance of a doix surviving a bad name. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 23 

About three o'clock, we came to a recent camping-place of 
the company of rangers : the brands of one of their fires were 
still smoking ; so that, according to the opinion of Beatte, they 
could not have passed on above a day previously. As there 
was a fine stream of water close by, and plenty of pea- vines 
for the horses, we encamped here for the night. 

We had not been here long, when we heard a halloo from a 
distance, and beheld the young Count and his party advancing 
through the forest. We welcomed them to the camp with 
heartfelt satisfaction; for their departure upon so hazardous 
an expedition had caused us great uneasiness. A short ex- 
periment had convinced them of the toil and difficulty of in- 
experienced travellers like themselves making their way 
thfiough the wilderness with such a train of horses, and such 
slender attendance. Fortunately, they determined to rejoin 
us bef 04*G night-fall ; one night's camping out might have cost 
them their horses. The Count had prevailed upon his protege 
and esquire, the young Osage, to continue with him, and still 
calculated upon achieving great exploits, with his assistance, 
on the buffalo prairies. 



CHAPTER VII. 



NEWS OF THE RANGERS. — THE COUNT AND HIS INDIAN SQUIRE. — 
HALT IN THE WOODS. — WOODLAND SCENE. — OSAGE VILLAGE. — 
OSAGE VISITORS AT OUR EVENING CAMP. 

In the morning early (October 12th), the two Creeks who 
had been sent express by the commander of Fort Gibson, to 
stop the company of rangers, arrived at our encampment on 
their return. They had left the company encamped about 
fifty miles distant, in a fine place on the Arkansas, abound- 
ing in game, where they intended to await our arrival. This 
news spread animation throughout our party, and we set out 
on our march at sumise, with renewed spirit. 

In mounting our steeds, the young Osage attempted to 
throw a blanket upon his wild horse. The fine, sensible ani- 
mal took fright, reared and recoiled. The attitudes of the 
wild horse and the almost naked savage, would have formed 
studies for a painter or a statuary. 

I often pleased myself in the course of our march, with 



24 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

noticing the appearance of the young Count and his newly 
enlisted follower, as they rode before me. Never was preux 
chevalier better suited with an esquire. The Count was well 
mounted, and, as I have before observed, was a bold and 
graceful rider. He was fond, too, of caracoling his horse, 
and dashing about in the buoyancy of youthful spirits. His 
dress was a gay Indian hunting frock of dressed deer skin, set- 
ting well to the shape, dyed of a beautifvd purple, and fanci- 
fully embroidered with silks of various colors; as if it had 
been the work of some Indian beauty, to decorate a favorite 
chief. With this he wore leathern pantaloons and moccasons, 
a foraging cap, and a double-barrelled gim slung by a bando- 
leer athwart his back: so that he was quite a picturesque 
figure as he managed gracefully his spirited steed. 

The young Osage would ride close behind him on his wild and 
beautifully mottled horse, which was decorated with crimson 
tufts of hair. He rode with his finely shaped head and bust 
naked ; his blanket being girt round his waist. He carried his 
rifle in one liand, and managed his horse with the other, and 
seemed ready to dash off at a moment's warning, with his 
youthful leader, oh ftny madcap foray or scamper. The Count, 
with the sanguine anticipations of youth, promised himself 
many hardy adventures and exploits in company with his 
youthful "brave," when we shoidd get among the buffaloes, 
in the Pawnee hunting grounds. 

After riding some distance, we crossed a narrow, deep 
stream, upon a solid bridge, the remains of an old beaver dam ; 
the industrious comnumity which had constructed it had all 
been destroyed. Above us, a streaming flight of wild geese, 
high in the air, and making a vociferous noise, gave note of 
the waning year. 

About half past ten o'clock we made a halt in a forest, where 
there was abundance of the pea-vine. Here we turned the 
horses loose to gaze. A fire was made, water procured from 
an adjacent spring, and in a short time our little Frenchman, 
Tonish, had a pot of coffee prepared for our refreshment. 
While partaking of it, we were joined by an old Osage, one 
of a small hunting party who had recently passed this way. 
He was in search of his horse, which had wandered away, or 
been stolen. Our half-breed, Beatte, made a wry face on hear- 
ing of Osage hunters in this direction. "Until we pass those 
hunters," said he, "we shall see no buffaloes. They frighten 
away every thing, like a prairie on fire." 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIPdES. 25 

The morning repast being over, the party amused them- 
selves in various ways. Some shot with their rifles at a mark, 
others lay asleep half buried in the deep bed of foliage, with 
their heads resting on their saddles ; others gossiped round the 
fire at the foot of a tree, which sent up wreaths of blue smoke 
among the branches. The horses banqueted luxuriously on 
the pea-vines, and some lay down and rolled amongst them. 

We were overshadowed by lofty trees, with straight, smooth 
trunks, like stately columns ; and as the glancing rays of the 
sun shone through the transparent leaves, tinted with the 
many-colored hues of autumn, I was reminded of the effect 
of sunshine among the stained windows and clustering col- 
umns of a Gothic cathedral. Indeed there is a grandeur and 
solemnity in our spacious forests of the West, that awaken in 
me the same feeling I have experienced in those vast and 
venerable piles, and the sound of the wind sweeping through 
them, supplies occasionally the deep breathings of the organ. 

About noon the bugle sounded to horse, and we were again 
on the march, hoping to arrive at the encami^ment of the 
rangers before night ; as the old Osage had assured us it was 
not above ten or twelve miles distant. In our course through 
a forest, we passed by a lonely pool, covered with the most 
magnificent water-lilies I had ever beheld ; among which swam 
several wood-ducks, one of the most beautiful of water-fowl, 
remarkable for the gracefulness and brilliancy of its plumage. 

Alter proceeding some distance farther, we came down upon 
the banks of the Arkansas, at a place where tracks of numer- 
ous horses, aU entering the water, showed where a party of 
Osage hunters had recently crossed the river on their way to 
the buffalo range. After letting our horses drink in the river, 
we continued along its bank for a space, and then across 
prairies, where we saw a distant smoke, which we hoped might 
proceed from the encampment of the rangers. Following 
what we supposed to be their trail, we came to a meadow in 
which were a number of horses grazing : they Avere not, how- 
ever, the horses of the troop. A little farther on, we reached a 
straggling Osage village, on the banks of the Arkansas. Our 
arrival created quite a sensation. A number of old men came 
forward and shook hands with us all severally; while the 
women and children huddled together in groups, staring at us 
wildly, chattering and laughing among themselves. We 
found that all the young men of the village had departed on a 
hunting expedition, leaving the women and children and old 



26 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

men behind. Here the Commissioner made a speech from on 
horseback ; informing his hearers of the purport of his mission, 
to promote a general peace among the tribes of the West, and 
urging them to lay aside all warlike and bloodthirsty notions, 
and not to make any wanton attacks upon the Pawnees. 
This speech being interpreted by Beatte, seemed to have a 
most pacifying effect upon the multitude, who promised faith- 
fully /^that, as far as in them lay, the peace should not be 
disturbed ; and indeed their age and sex gave some reason to 
trust that they would keep their word. 

Still hoping to reach the camp of the rangers before night- 
fall, we pushed on until twilight, when we were obliged to 
halt on the borders of a ravine. The rangers bivouacked 
under trees, at the bottom of the dell, while we pitched 
our tent on a rocky knoll near a running stream. The night 
came on dark and overcast, with flying clouds, and much 
appearance of rain. The fires of the rangers burnt brightly 
in the dell, and threw strong masses of light upon the robber- 
looking groups that were cooking, eating, and drinking around 
them. To add to the wildness of the scene, several Osage 
Indians, visitors from the village we had passed, were mingled 
among the men. Three of them came and seated themselves 
by our fire. They watched every thing that was going on 
around them in silence, and looked like figures of monumental 
bronze. We gave them food, and, what they most relished, 
coffee ; for the Indians partake in the universal fondness for 
this beverage, which pervades the West. When they had 
made their supper, they stretched themselves, side by side, 
before the fire, and began a low nasal chant, drumming with 
their hands upon their breasts, by way of accompaniment. 
Their chant seemed to consist of regular staves, every one ter- 
minating, not in a melodious cadence, but in the abrupt in- 
terjection huh ! uttered almost like a hiccup. This chant, we 
were told by our interpreter, Beatte, related to ourselves, our 
appearance, our treatment of them, and all that they knew of 
our plans. In one part they spoke of the young Count, whose 
animated character and eagerness for Indian enterprise had 
struck their fancy, and they indulged in some waggery about 
him and the young Indian beauties, that produced great mer- 
riment among our half-breeds. 

This mode of improvising is common throughout the savage 
tribes; and in this way, with a few simple inflections of the 
voice, they chant all their exploits in war and hunting, and 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 27 

occasionally indulge in a vein of comic humor and dry satire, 
to which the Indians appear to me much more prone than is 
generally imagined. 

In fact, the Indians that I have had an opportunity of seeing 
in real life are quite different from those described in poetry. 
They are by no means the stoics that they are represented; 
taciturn, unbendmg, without a tear or a smile. Taciturn they 
are, it is true, when in company with white men, whose good- 
will they distrust, and whose language they do not understand ; 
but the white man is equally taciturn under like circumstances. 
When the Indians are among themselves, however, there 
cannot be greater gossips. Half their time is taken up in 
talking over their adventures in war and hunting, and in tell- 
ing whimsical stories. They are great mimics and buffoons, 
also, and entertain themselves excessively at the expense of 
the whites with whom they have associated, and who have 
supposed them impressed with profound respect for their 
grandeur and dignity. They are curious observers, noting 
every thing in silence, but with a keen and watchful eye; 
occasionally exchancring a glance or a grunt with each other, 
when any thing particularly strikes them: but reserving all 
comments until they are alone. Then it is that they give fuU 
scope to criticism, satire, mimicry, and mirth. 

In the course of my journey along the frontier, I have had 
repeated opportunities of noticing their excitability and boister- 
ous merriment at their games ; and have occasionally noticed 
a group of Osages sitting round a fire until a late hour of the 
night, engaged m the most animated and lively conversation ; 
and at times making the woods resound with peals of laughter. 
As to tears, they have them in abundance, both real and 
affected ; at times they make a merit of them. No one weeps 
more bitterly or profusely at the death of a relative or friend : 
and they have stated times when they repair to howl and 
lament at their gi^aves. I have heard doleful wailings at day- 
break, in the neighboring Indian villages, made by some of the 
inhabitants, who go out at that hour into the fields, to mourn 
and weep for the dead : at such times, I am told, the tears wiU 
stream down their cheeks in torrents. 

As far as I can judge, the Indian of poetical fiction is like the 
shepherd of pastoral romance, a mere personification of imagi- 
nary attributes. 

The nasal chant of our Osage guests gradually died away ; 
they covered their heads with their blankets and fell fast 



28 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

asleep, and in a little while all was silent, except the pattering 
of scattered rain- drops upon our tent. 

In the morning our Indian visitors breakfasted with us, but 
the young Osage who was to act as esquire to the Count in his 
knight-errantry on the prairies, was nowhere to be found. 
His wild horse, too, was missing, and, after many conjectures, 
we came to the conclusion that he had taken "Indian leave" of 
us in the night. We afterwards ascertained that he had been 
persuaded so to do by the Osages we had recently met with ; 
who had represented to him the perils that would attend him 
in an expedition to the Pawnee hunting grounds, where he 
might fall into the hands of the implacable enemies of his 
tribe; and, what was scarcely less to be apprehended, the 
annoyances to which he would be subjected from the capri- 
cious and overbearing conduct of the white men; who, as I 
have witnessed in my own short experience, are prone to treat 
the poor Indians as little better than brute animals. Indeed, 
he had had a specimen of it himself in the narrow escape he 
made from the infliction of " Lynch's law," by the hard- 
winking worthy of the frontier, for the flagitious crime of 
finding a stray horse. 

The disappearance of the youth was generally regretted by 
our party, for we had all taken a great fancj^ to him from his 
handsome, frank, and manly appearance, and the easy grace ' 
of his deportment. He was indeed a native-born gentleman. 
By none, however, was he so much lamented as by the young 
Count, who thus suddenly found himself deprived of his 
esquire. I regretted the departure of the Osage for liis own 
sake, for we should have cherished him throughout the expe- 
dition, and I am convinced, from the munificent spirit of his 
patron, he would have returned to his tribe laden with wealth 
of beads and trinkets and Indian blankets. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

THE HONEY CAMP. 



The weather, which had been rainy in the night, having 
held up, we resumed our march at seven o'clock in the morn- 
ing, in confident hope of soon arriving at the encampment of 
the rangers. We had not ridden above three or four miles 



A TOUR OF TUB PRAIRIES. 20 

when we came to a large tree which had recently heen felled 
by an axe, for the -wild honey contained in the hollow of its 
trunk, several broken flakes of which still remained. We 
now felt sure that the camp could not be far distant. About a 
couple of miles further some of the rangers set up a shout, and 
pointed to a number of horses grazing in a woody bottom. A 
few paces brought us to the brow of an elevated ridge, whence 
we looked down upon the encampment. It was a wild bandit, 
or Robin Hood, scene. In a beautiful open forest, traversed by 
a running stream, were booths of bark and branches, and tents 
of blankets, temporary shelters from the recent rain, for the 
rangers commonly bivouac in the open air. There were groups 
of rangers in every kind of uncouth garb. Some were cooking 
at large fires made at the feet of trees ; some were stretching 
and dressing deer skins ; some were shooting at a mark, and 
some lying about on the grass. Venison jerked, and hung on 
frames, was drying over the embers in one place ; in another 
lay carcasses recently brought in by the hunters. Stacks of 
rifles were leaning against the trunks of the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-horns hanging above them, while the horses 
were grazing here and there among the thickets. 

Our arrival was greeted with acclamation. The rangers 
crowded about their comrades to inquire the news from the 
fort ; for our own part, we were received in frank simple hun- 
ter's style by Captain Bean, the commander of the company ; 
a man about forty years of age, vigorous and active. His life 
had been chiefly passed on the frontier, occasionally in Indian 
warfare, so that he was a thorough woodsman, and a first-rate 
hunter. He was equipped in character; m leathern hunting 
shirt and leggings, and a leathern foraging cap. 

While we were conversing wdth the Captain, a veteran 
huntsman approached, whose whole appearance struck me. 
He was of the middle size, but tough and weather-proved ; a 
head partly bald and garnished with loose iron-gray locks, and 
a fine black eye, beaming with youthful spirit. His dress was 
similar to that of the Captain, a rifle shirt and leggings of 
dressed deer skin, that had evidently seen service ; a powder- 
horn was slung by his side, a hunting-knife stuck in his belt, 
and in his hand was an ancient and trusty rifle, doubtless as 
dear to him as a bosom friend. He asked permission to go 
hunting, which was readily granted. "That's old Ryan," said 
the Captain, when he had gone ; ' ' there's not a better hunter in 
the camp; he's sure to bring in game." 



30 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

In a little while our pack-horses were unloaded and turned 
loose to revel among the pea- vines. Our tent was pitched ; our 
fire made ; the half of a deer had been sent to us from the Cap- 
tain's lodge ; Beatte brought in a couple of wild turkeys ; the 
spits were laden, and the camp-kettle crammed with meat ; and 
to crown our luxuries, a basin filled with great flakes of deli- 
cious honey, the spoils of a plundered bee-tree, was given us by 
one of the rangers. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonish, was in an ecstasy, and tuck= 
ing up his sleeves to the elbows, set to work to make a display 
of his culinary skill, on which he prided himself almost as 
much as upon his huntin>f , liis riding, and his warlike prowess. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A BEE HUNT. 



The beautiful forest in which we were encamped abounded in 
bee-trees ; that is to say, trees in the decayed trunks of which 
wild bees had established their hives. It is surprising in what 
countless swarms the bees have overspread the Far West, within 
but a moderate number of years. The Indians consider them the 
harbinger of the white man, as the buffalo is of the red man ; 
and say that, in proportion as the bee adv^ances, the Indian 
and buffalo retire. We are always accustomed to associate 
the hum of the bee-hive with the farmhouse and flower-garden, 
and to consider those industrious little animals as connected 
with the busy haunts of man, and I am told that the wild bee 
is seldom to be met with at any great distance from the fron- 
tier. They have been the heralds of civihzation, steadfastly 
preceding it as it advanced from the Atlantic borders, and 
some of the ancient settlers of the West pretend to give the 
very year when the honey-bee first crossed the Mississippi. 
The Indians with surprise found the mouldering trees of their 
forests suddenly teeming with ambrosial sweets, and nothing, 
I am told, can exceed the greedy relish with which they ban- 
quet for the first thne upon this unbought luxury of the wilder- 
ness. 

At present the honey-bee swarms in myriads, in the noble 
groves and forests wliich skirt and intersect the prairies, and 
extend along the alluvial bottoms of the rivers. It seems to 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 3| 

me as if these beautiful regions answer literally to the descrip- 
tion of the land of promise, "a land flowing with milk and 
honey;" for the rich pasturage of the prairies is calculated to 
sustain herds of cattle as countless as the sands upon the sea- 
shore, while the flowers with Vv^hich they are enamelled render 
them a very paradise for the nectar-seeking bee. 

We had not been long in the camp when a party set out in 
quest of a bee-tree ; and, being curious to witness the sport, I 
gladly accepted an invitation to accompany them. The party 
was headed by a veteran bee-hunter, a tall lank fellow in 
homespun garb that hung loosely about his limbs, and a straw 
hat shaped not unlike a bee-hive ; a comrade, equally uncouth 
in garb, and without a hat, straddled along at .his heels, with a 
long rifle on his shoiflder. To these succeeded half a dozen 
others, some with axes and some with rifles, for no one stirs 
far from the camp without his firearms, so as to be ready 
either for wfld deer or wfld Indian. 

After proceeding some distance we came to an open glade 
on the skirts of the forest. Here our leader halted, and then 
advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which I per- 
ceived a piece of honey-comb. This I found was the bait or 
lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and 
diving into its cells. When they had laden themselves with 
honey, they would rise into the air, and dart off in a straight 
line, almost with the velocity of a buUet. The hunters 
watched attentively the course they took, and then set off in 
the same direction, stumbling along over twisted roots and 
fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the sky. In this way 
they traced the honey -laden bees to their hive, in the hollow 
trunk of a blasted oak, vv^here, after buzzing about for a mo- 
ment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. 

Two of the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at 
the foot of the tree to level it with the ground. The mere 
spectators and amateurs, in the meantime, drew off to a 
cautious distance, to 'be out of the way of the falling of the 
tree and the vengeance of its inmates. The jarring blows of 
the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming or disturbing this 
most industrious community. They continued to ply at their 
usual occupations, some arriving full freighted into port, 
others sallying forth on new expeditions, like so many mer- 
chantmen in a money-making metropoHs, little suspicious of 
impending bankruptcy and downfall. Even a loud crack 
which announced the disrupture of the trunk, fafled to divert 



32 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

their attention from the intense pursuit of gain; at length 
down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting open 
from end to end, and displaying all the hoarded treasures of 
the commonwealth. 

One of the hunters immediately ran up with a wisjD of 
lighted hay as a defence against the bees. The latter, how- 
ever, made no attack and sought no revenge; they seemed 
stupefied by the catastrophe and unsuspicious of its cause, and 
remained crawling and buzzing about the ruins without offer- 
ing us any molestation. Every one of the party now fell to, 
with spoon and huntin'^-kiiiLe, to scoop out the flakes of 
honey-comb with which tlift hollow trunk was stored. Some 
of them were of old date and a deep brown color, others were 
beautifully white, and the honey in their cells was almost 
hmpid. Such of the combs as were entire were placed in 
camp kettles to be conveyed to the" encampment ; those which 
had been shivered in the fall were devoured upon the spot. 
Every stark bee-hunter was to be seen with a rich morsel in 
his hand, dripping about his fingers, and disappearing as 
rapidly as a cream tart before the holiday appetite of a school- 
boy. 

Nor was it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the down- 
fall of this industrious community; as if the bees would carry 
through the similitude of their habits with those of laborious 
and gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving 
on eager wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their 
neighbors. These busied themselves as eagerly and cheerfully 
as so many wreckers on an Indiaman that has been driven on 
shore ; plunging into the cells of the broken honey-combs, ban- 
queting greedily on the spoil, and then winging their way 
full-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors of 
the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do any thing, not 
even to taste the nectar that flowed around them ; but crawled 
backward and forward, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a 
poor fellow with his hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly 
and despondingly about the ruins of his house that had been 
burnt. 

It is difficult to describe the bewilderment and confusion of 
the bees of the bankrupt hive who had been absent at the time 
of the catastrophe, and who arrived from time to time, with 
full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled about in 
the air, in the place where the fallen tree had once reared its 
head, astonished at finding it all a vacuum. At length, as if 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 33 

comprehending their disaster, they settled down in chisters on 
a dry branch of a neighboring tree, vvhence they seemed to 
contemplate the prostrate rp.iii, and to buzz forth doleful 
lamentations over the d'^vvnfall of their repubhc. It was a 
scene on which the " melancholy Jacques" might have moral- 
ized by the hour. 

We now abandoned the place, leaving much honey in the 
hollow of the tree. "It will all be cleared off by varmint," 
said one of the rangers. "What vermin?" asked I. "Oh, 
bears, and skunks, and racoons, and 'possums. The bears is 
the knowingest varmint for finding out a bee-tree in the world. 
They'll gnaw for days together at the trunk till they make a 
hole big enough to get in their paws, and then they'll haul out 
honey, bees and all." 



CHAPTER X. 



AMUSEMENTS IN THE CAMP. — CONSULTATIONS.— HUNTERS' FARE 
AND FEASTING. — EVENING SCENES. — CAMP MELODY. — THE FATE 
OP AN AMATEUR OWL. 

On returning to the camp, we found it a scene of the great- 
est hilarity. Some of the rangers were shooting at a mark, 
others were leaping, wrestling, and playing at prison bars. 
They were mostly young men, on their first expedition, in 
high health and vigor, and buoyant with anticipations ; and I 
can conceive nothing more likely to set the youthful blood 
into a flow, than a wild wood life of the kind, and the range of 
a magnificent wilderness, abounding with game, and fruitful 
of adventure. We send our youth abroad to grow luxurious 
and effeminate in Europe; it appears to me, that a previous 
tour on the prairies would be more likely to produce that 
manliness, simplicity, and self-dependence, most in unison 
with our political institutions. 

While the young men were engaged in these boisterous 
amusements, a graver set, composed of the Captain, the 
Doctor, and other sages and leaders of the camp, were seated 
or stretched out on the grass, round a frontier map, holding 
a consultation about our position, and the course we were to 
pursue. 

Our plan was to cross the Arkansas just above where the 
Red Foi-k falls into it, then to keep westerly, until we should 



31 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

pass through a ^^rand belt of open forest, called the Cross 
Timber, which rangas nearly north and south from the 
Arkansas to Bed River; ci:*^ter which, we were to keep a 
southerly course toward the latttr river. 

Our half-breed, Beatte, being an expcx dnced Osage hunter, 
was called into the consultation. "Have you ever hunted in 
this direction?" said the Captain. "Yes," was the laconic 
reply. 

' ' Perhaps, then, you can tell us in which direction lies the 
Red Fork ?" 

' ' If» you keep along yonder, by the edge of the prairie, you 
will come to a bald hill, with a pile of stones upon it." 

"I have noticed that hill as I was hunting," said the Cap 
tain. 

' ' Well ! those stones Avere set up by the Osages as a land^ 
mark: from that spot you may have a sight of the Red 
Fork." 

"In that case," cried the Captain, "we shall reach the Red 
Fork to-morrow; then cross the Arkansas above it, into the 
Pawnee country, and then in two days we shall crack buffalo 
bones !" 

The idea of arriving at the adventurous hunting grounds of 
the Pawnees, and of coming upon the traces of the buffaloes, 
made every eye sparkle with animation. Our further con- 
versation was interrupted by the sharp report of a rifle at no 
great distance from the camp, 

"That's old Ryan's rifle," exclaimed the Captain; "there's 
a buck down, I'll w^arrant !" Nor was he mistaken; for, before 
long, the veteran made his appearance, calling upon one of the 
younger rangers to return with him, and aid in bringing home 
the carcass. 

The surrounding country, in fact, abounded with game, so 
that the camp was overstocked with provisions, and, as no less 
than twenty bee-trees had been cut down in the vicinity, every 
one revelled in luxury. With the wasteful prodigality of hun- 
ters, there was a continual feasting, and scarce any one put by 
provision for the morrow. The cooking v/as conducted in 
hunter's style: the meat was stuck upon tapering spits of 
dogwood, which we^e thrust perpendicularly into the ground, 
so as to sustain the joint bet ore the fire, where it was roasted 
or broil 3d with all its juices retained in it in a manner that 
would have tickled the palate of the most experienced gour- 
mand. As much could not be said in favcr of the bread. It 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 35 

was little more than a paste made of flour and water, and fried 
like fritters, in lard ; though some adopted a ruder style, twist- 
ing it round the ends of sticks, and thus roasting it before the 
fire. In either way, I have found it extremely palatable on 
the prairies. No one knows the true relish of food until he has 
a hunter's appetite. 

Before sunset, we were summoned by little Tonish to a 
sumptuous repast. Blankets had been spread on the ground 
near to the fire, upon which we took our seats. A large dish, 
or bowl, made from the root of a maple tree, and which we 
had purchased at the Indian village, was placed on the ground 
before us, and into it were emptied the contents of one of the 
camp kettles, consisting of a wild turkey hashed, together with 
slices of bacon and lumps of dough. Beside it was placed 
another bowl of similar ware, containing an ample supply of 
fritters. After we had discussed the hash, two wooden spits, 
on which the ribs of a fat buck were broiling before the fire, 
were removed and planted in the ground before us, with a 
triumphant air, by little Tonisli. Haying no dishes, we had to 
proceed in hunter's style, cutting off strips and slices with our 
hunting-knives, and dipping them in salt and pepper. To do 
justice to Tonish's cookery, however, and to the keen sauce of 
the prairies, never have I tasted venison so delicious. With 
all thixj, our beverage was coffee, boiled in a camp kettle, 
sweetened with brown sugar, and drunk out of tin cups : and 
such was the style of our banqueting throughout this expedi- 
tion, whenever provisions were plenty, and as long as flour 
and coffee and sugar held out. 

As the twilight thickened into night, the sentinels were 
marched forth to their stations around the camp; an indis- 
pensable precaution in a country infested by Indians. The 
encampment now presented a picturesque appearance. Camp 
fires were blazing and smouldering here and there among the 
trees, with groups of rangers round them; some seated or 
lying on the ground, others standing in the ruddy glare of the 
flames, or in shadowy relief. At some of the fires there was 
much boisterous mirth, where peals of laughter were mingled 
with loud ribald jokes and uncouth exclamations; for the 
troop was evidently a raw, undisciplined band, levied among 
the wild youngsters of the frontier, Avho had enlisted, some for 
the sake of roving adventure, and some for the purpose of 
getting a knowledge of the country. Many of them were the 
neighbors of their officers, and accustomed to regard them 



36 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

with the familiarity of equals and companions. None of them 
had any idea of the restraint and decorum of a camp, ol 
ambition to acquire a name fur exactness in a profession in 
which they had no intention of continuing. 

While this boisterous merriment prevailed at some of the 
fires, there suddenly rose a strain of nasal melody from 
another, at which a choir of "vocalists" were uniting their 
voices in a most lugubrious psalm tune. This was led by one 
of the lieutenants ; a tall, spare man, who we were informed 
had officiated as schoolmaster, singing-master, and occasionally 
as Methodist preacher, in one of the villages of the frontier. 
The chant rose solemnly and sadly in the night air, and 
reminded me of the description of similar canticles in the 
camps of the Covenanters; and, indeed, the strange medley of 
figures and faces and uncouth garbs, congregated together in 
our troop, would not have disgraced the banners of Praise-God 
Barebones. 

In one of the intervals of this nasal psalmody, an amateur 
owl, as if in competition, began his dreary hooting. Immedi- 
ately there was a cry throughout the camp of "Charley's owl! 
Charley's owl!" It seems this " obscure bird " had visited the 
camp every night, and had been fired at by one of the senti- 
nels, a half-witted lad, named Charley; who, on being called 
up for firing when on duty, excused himself by saying, that he 
understood owls made uncommonly good soup. 

One of the young rangers mimicked the cry of this bird of 
wisdom, who, with a simplicity little consonant with his 
character, came hovering within sight, and alighted on the 
naked branch of a tree, lit up by the blaze of our fire. The 
young Count immediately seized his fowling-piece, took fatal 
aim, and in a twinkling the poor bird of ill omen came flutter- 
ing to the ground. Charley was now called upon to make and 
eat his dish of owl-soup, but declined, as he had not shot the 
bird. 

In the course of the evening, I paid a visit to the Captain's 
fire. It was composed of huge trunks of trees, and of sufii- 
cient magnitude to roast a bufl'alo whole. Here were a num- 
ber of the prime hunters and leaders of the camp, some sitting, 
some standing, and others lying on skins or blankets before 
the fire, telling old frontier stories about hunting and Indian 
warfare. 

As the night advanced, we perceived above the trees to the 
west, a ruddy glow flushing up the sky. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 3^, 

" That must ber a prairie set on fire by the Osage hunters," 
said the Captain. 

"It is at the Eed Fork," said Beatte, regarding the sky. 
" It seems but three miles distant, yet it perhaps is twenty." 

About half past eight o'clock, a beautiful pale light gradu- 
ally sprang up in the east, a precursor of the rising moon. 
Drawing off from the Captain's lodge, I now x^repared for the 
night's repose. I had determined to abandon the shelter of 
the tent, and henceforth to bivouac like the rangers. A bear- 
skin spread at the foot of a tree was my bed, with a pair of 
saddle-bags for a pillow. Wrapping myself in blankets, I 
stretched myself on this hunter's couch, and soon fell into a 
sound and sweet sleep, from which I did not awake until the 
bugle sounded at daybreak. 



CHAPTER XI. 



BREAKING UP OF THE ENCAMPMENT.— PICTURESQUE MARCH. — 
GAME.— CAMP SCENES. — TRIUMPH OP A YOUNG HUNTER.— ILL 
SUCCESS OF AN OLD HUNTER.— FOUL MURDER OF A POLECAT. 

October 14th.— At the signal note of the bugle, the sentinels 
and patrols marched in from their stations around the camp 
and were dismissed. The rangers were roused from their 
night's repose, and soon a bustling scene took place. While 
some cut wood, made fires, and prepared the morning's meal, 
others struck their foul-weather shelters of bkmkets, and 
made every preparation for departure; while others dashed 
about, through brush and brake, catching the horses and lead- 
ing or driving them into camp. 

During all this "bustle the forest rang with whoops, and 
shouts, and peals of laughter; when all had breakfasted, 
packed up their effects and camp equipage, and loaded the 
pack-horses, the bugle sounded to saddle and mount. By 
eight o'clock the whole troop set off in a long straggling line, 
with whoop and halloo, intermingled with many an oath at 
the loitering pack-horses, and in a little whUe the forest, which 
for several days had been the scene of such unwonted bustle 
and uproar, relapsed into its primeval solitude and silence. 

It was a bright sunny morning, with a pure transparent 
atmosphere that seemed to bathe the very heart with glad- 



38 ^ TOUR OF THE PJIAIEIES. 

ness. Our march continued parallel to the ^.rkansas, through 
a rich and varied country; sometimes we had to break our 
way through alluvial bottoms matted with redundant vegeta- 
tion, where the gigantic trees wei'e entangled with grap-vines, 
hanging like cordage from their branches; sometimes we 
coasted along sluggish brooks, whose feebly trickling current 
just served to link together a succession of glassy i^ools, im- 
bedded like mirrors in the quiet bosom of the forest, reflecting 
its autumnal foliage, and patches of the clear blue sky. Some- 
times we scrambled up broken and rocky hills, from the sum- 
mits of which we had wide views stretching on one side over 
distant prairies diversified by groves and forests, and on the 
other ranging along a line of blue and shadowy hills beyond 
the waters of the Arkansas. 

The appearance of our troop was suited to the country; 
stretching along in a line of upward of half a mile in length, 
winding among brakes and bushes, and up and down in the 
defiles of the hills, the men in every kind of uncouth garb, 
with long rifles on their shoulders, and mounted on horses of 
every color. The pack-horses, too, would incessantly wander 
from the line of march, to C];op the surrounding herbage, and 
were banged and beaten back by Tonish and his half-breed 
compeers, with volleys of mongrel oaths. Every now and 
then the notes of the bugle, from the head of the column, 
would echo through the woodlands and along the hollow glens, 
summoning up stragglers, and announcing the line of march. 
The whole scene reminded me of the description given of bands 
of buccaneers penetrating the wilds of South America, on their 
plundering expeditions against the Spanish settlements. 

At'One time we passed through a luxuriant bottom or mea- 
dow bordered by thickets, where the tall grass was pressed 
down into numerous ' ' deer beds, " where those animals had 
couched the preceding night. Some oak trees also bore signs 
of having been clambered by bears, in quest of acorns, the 
marks of their claws being visible in the bark. 

As we opened a glade of this sheltered meadow we beheld 
several deer bounding away in wild affright, until, having 
gained some distance, they would stop and gaze back, with 
the curiosity common to this animal, at the strange intruders 
into their solitudes. There was immediately a sharp report 
of rifles in every direction, from the young huntsmen of the 
troop, but they were too eager to aim surely, and the deer, un- 
harmed, bounded away into the depths of the forest. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 39 

In the course of our march we struck the Arkansas, but 
found ourselves still below the Red Fork, and, as the river 
made deep bends, we again left its banks and continued 
through the woods until nearly eight o'clock, when we en- 
camped in a beautiful basin bordered by a fine stream, and 
shaded by clumps of lofty oaks. 

The horses were now hobbled, that is to say, their fore legs 
were fettered with cords or leathern straps, so as to impede 
their movements, and prevent their wandering from the camp. 
They were then turned loose to graze. A number of rangers, 
prime hunters, started off in different directions in search ol 
game. There was no whooping nor laughing about the camp 
as in the morning ; all were either busy about the fires pre 
paring the evening's repast, or reposing upon the grass. Shots 
were soon heard in various directions. After a time a hunts- 
man rode into the camp with the carcass of a fine buck hang- 
ing across his horse. Shortly afterward came in a couple of 
stripling hunters on foot, one of whom bore on his shoulders 
the body of a doe. He was evidently proud of his spoil, being 
probably one of his first achievements, though he and his com- 
panion were much bantered by their comrades, as young be- 
ginners who hunted in partnership. 

Just as the night set in, there was a great shouting at one 
end of the camp, and immediately afterward a body of young 
rangers came parading round the various fires, bearing one 
of their comrades in triumph on their shoulders. He had shot 
an elk for the first time in his life, and it was the first animal 
of the kind that had been killed on this expedition. The young 
huntsman, whose name was M'Lellan, was the hero of the 
camr. for the night, and was the "father of the feast" into 
the bargain ; for portions of his elk were seen roasting at every 
firp. 

The other hunters returned without success. The Captain 
had observed the tracks of a buffalo, which must have passed 
within a few days, and had tracked a bear for some distance 
until the foot -prints had disappeared. He had seen an elk, 
too on the banks of the Arkansas, which walked out on a ■ 
sand-bar of the river, but before he could steal round through 
the bushes to get a shot, it had re-entered the woods. 

Our own hunter, Beatte, returned silent and sulky, from an 
unsuccessful hunt. As yet he had brought us in nothing, and 
we had depended for our supplies of venison upon the Cap- 
tain's mess. Beatte was evidently mortified, for he looked 



40 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

down with contempt upon the rangers, as raw and inexperi- 
enced woodsmen, but Httle skilled in hunting; they, on the 
other hand, regarded Beatte with no very complacent eye, as 
one of an evil breed, and always spoke of him as "the In- 
dian." 

Our little Frencliman, Tonish, also, by his incessant boast- 
ing, and chattering, and gasconading, in his balderdashed dia- 
lect, had drawn upon himself the ridicule of many of the wags 
of the troop, who amused themselves at his expense in a kind 
of raillery by no means remarkable for its delicacy ; but the 
little varlet was so completely fortified by vanity and self-con- 
ceit, that he was invulnerable to every joke. I must confess, 
however, that I felt a little mortified at the sorry figure our 
retainers were making among these moss-troopers of the fron- 
tier. Even our very equipments came in for a share of unpopu- 
larity, and I heard many sneers at the double-barrelled guns 
with which we were provided against smaller game ; the lads 
of the West holding "shot-guns," as they call them, in great 
contempt, thinking grouse, partridges, and even wild turkeys 
as beneath their serious attention, and the rifle the only fire- 
arm worthy of a hunter. 

I was awakened before daybreak the next morning, by the 
mournful howling of a wolf, who was skulking about the pur- 
lieus of the camp, attracted by the scent of venison. Scarcely 
had the first gray streak of dawn appeared, when a youngster 
at one of the distant lodges, shaking ofE his sleep, crowed in 
imitation of a cock, 'with a loud clear note and prolonged 
cadence, that would have done credit to the most veteran 
chanticleer. He was immediately answered from another 
quarter, as if from a rival rooster. The chant was echoed 
from lodge to lodge, and followed by the cackhng of hens, 
quacking of ducks, gabbling of turkeys, and grunting of 
swine, until we seemed to have been transported into the 
midst of a farmyard, with all its inmates in full concert 
around us. 

After riding a short distance this morning, we came upon a 
well-worn Indian track, and following it, scrambled to the 
summit of a hill, whence we had a wide prospect over a coun- 
try diversified by rocky ridges and waving lines of upland, 
and enriched by groves and clumps of trees of varied tuft and 
foliage. At a distance to the west, to our great satisfaction, 
we beheld the Eed Fork rolling its ruddy current to the Ar- 
kansas, and found that we were above the point of junction. 



A TOUR OF THE PEA TRIES. 41 

We now descended and pushed forward, with much diificult^- , 
through the rich alluvial bottom that borders the Arkansas. 
Here the trees were intei^woven with grape-vines, forming a 
kind of cordage, from trunk to trunk and hmb to limb ; there 
was a thick undorgro^vth, also, of bush and bramble, and .such 
an abundance of hops, fit for gathering, that it was difficult for 
our horses to force their way through. 

The soil was imprinted in many places with the tracks of 
deer, and the claws of bears were to be traced on various treeSo 
Every one was on the look-out in the hope of starting some 
game, when suddenly there was a bustle and a clamor in a 
distant part of the hne. A bear ! a bear ! was the cry. We 
all pressed forward to be present at the sport, when to my 
infinite, though whimsical chagrin, I found it to be our two 
worthies, Beatte and Tonish, perpetrating a foul murder on a 
polecat, or skunk! The animal had ensconced itself beneath 
the trunk of a fallen tr^e, whence it kept up a vigorous defence 
in its peculiar style, imtil the surrounding forest was in a high 
state of fragrance. 

Gibes and jokes now broke out on all sides at the expense of 
the Indian hunter, and he was advised to wear the scalp of the 
skunk as the only trophy of his prowess. When they found, 
however, that he and Tonish were absolutely bent upon bearing 
off the carcass as a peculiar dainty, there was a universal 
expression of disgust ; and they were regarded as Kttle better 
than cannibals. 

Mortified at this ignominious debut of our two hunters, I 
insisted upon their abandoning their prize and resuming their 
march. Beatte complied with a dogged, discontented air, and 
lagged behind muttering to himself. Tonish, however, with 
his usual buoyancy, consoled himself by vociferous eulogies on 
the riclmess and delicacy of a roasted polecat, which he swore 
was considered the daintiest of dishes by all experienced Indian 
gourmands. It was with difficulty I could silence Ms loqua- 
city by repeated and peremptory commands. A Frenchman's 
vivacity, however, if repressed in one way, wiU break out in 
another, and Tonish now eased off his spleen by bestowing 
volleys of oaths and dry blows on the pack-horses. I was 
likely to be no gainer in the end, by my opposition to the 
humors of these varlets, for after a time, Beatte, who had 
lagged behind, rode up to the head of the hne to resume his 
station as a guide, and I had the vexation to see the carcass of 
his prize, stripped of its skin, and looking like a fat sucking- 



4-2 A TOUR OF THE PIIAIRIES. 

pig, dangling beliind his saddle. I made a solemn vow, how- 
ever, in secret, that our fire should not be disgraced by the 
cooking of that polecat. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE CROSSING OF THE ARKANSAS. 

We had now arrived at the river, about a quarto r of a mile 
above the junction of the Eed Fork ; but the banks were steep 
and crumbling, and the current was deep and rapid. It was 
impossible, therefore, to cross at this place ; and we resumed 
cur painful course through the forest, dispatching Beatte ahead, 
in search of a fording place. We had proceeded about a mile 
farther, when he rejoined us, bringing intelligence of a place 
hard by, where the river, for a great part of its breadth, was 
rendered f ordable by sand-bars, and the remainder might easily 
be swam by the horses. 

Here, then, we made a halt. Some of the rangers set to 
work vigorously with their axes, felling trees on the edge of 
the river, wherewith to form rafts for the transportation of 
their baggage and camp equipage. Others patrolled the banks 
of the river farther up, in hopes of finding a better fording 
place ; being unwilling to risk their horses in the deep channel. 

It was now that our worthies, Beatte and Tonish, had an 
opportunity of displaying their Indian adroitness and resource. 
At the Osage village which we had passed a day or two before, 
they had procured a dry buffalo skin. This was now produced ; 
cords were passed through a number of small eyelet-holes with 
which it was bordered, and it was drawn up, until it formed a 
kind of deep trough. Sticks were then placed athwart it on 
the inside, to keep it in shape ; our camp equipage and a part 
of our baggage were placed within, and the singidar bark was 
carried down the bank and set afloat. A cord was attached to 
the prow, which Beatte took between his teeth, and throwing 
himself into the water, went ahead, towing the bark after bin ; 
while Tonish followed behind, to keep it steady and to propel 
it. Part of the way they had foothold, and were enabled to 
wade, but in the main current they were obliged to swim. The 
whole way, they whooped and yelled in the Indian style, until 
they landed safely on the opposite shore. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 43 

The Commissioner and myself were so well pleased with this 
Indian mode of ferriage, that we determined to trust ourselves 
in the buffalo hide. Our companions, the Count and Mr. L., 
h?xl proceeded v/ith the horses, along the river bank, in search 
of a ford which some of the rangers had discovered, about a 
mile and a half distant. While we were waiting for the return 
of our ferryman, I happened to cast my eyes upon a heap of 
luggage under a bush, and descried the sleek carcass of the 
polecat, snugly trussed up, and ready for roasting before the 
evening fire. I could not resist the temptation to plump it into 
the river, when it sunk to the bottom like a lump of lead ; and 
thus our lodge was relieved from the bad odor which tliis savory 
viand had threatened to bring upon it. 

Our men having recrossed with their cockle-shell bark, it 
was drawn on shore, half filled with saddles, saddlebags, and 
other luggage, amounting to a hundred weight; and being 
again placed in the water, I was invited to take my seat. It 
appeared to me pretty much like the embarkation of the wise 
men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl: I stepped in, how- 
ever, without hesitation, though as cautiously as possible, and 
sat down on the top of the luggage, the margin of the hide 
sinking to within a hand's breadth of the water's edge. Eifles, 
fowling-pieces, and other articles of small bulk, were then 
handed in, until I protested against receiving any more freight. 
We then launched forth upon the stream, the bark being towed 
as before. 

It was with a sensation half serious, half comic, that I found 
myself thus afloat, on the skin of a buffalo, in the midst of a 
wild river, surrounded by wilderness, and towed along by a 
half savage, Avhoo]3ing and yelling like a devil incarnate. To 
please the vanity of little Tonish, I discharged the double- 
barrelled gun, to the right and left, when in the centre of the 
stream. The report echoed along the woody shores, and was 
answered by shouts from some of the rangers, to the great 
exultation of the little Frenchman, who took to himself the 
whole glory of tliis Indian mode of navigation. 

Our voyage was accomplished happily; the Commissioner 
was ferried across with equal success, and all our effects were 
brought over in the same manner. Nothing could equal the 
vain-glorious vaporing of little Tonish, as he strutted about th© 
shore, and exulted in his superior skill and knowledge, to the 
rangers. Beatte, however, kept his proud, saturnine look, 
without a smile. He had a vast contempt for the ignorance of 



44 ^ TOVR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

the rangers, and felt that he had been undervalued by them. 
His only observation was, ' ' Dey now see de Indian good for 
someting, anyhow!" 

The broad, sandy shore where we had landed, was intersec- 
ted by innumerable tracks of elk, deer, bears, racoons, turkeys, 
and water-fowl. Tlie river scenery at this place was beauti- 
fully diversified, presenting long, shining reaches, bordered 
by willows and cottonwood trees; rich bottoms, with lofty 
forests ; among wliich towered enormous plane trees, and the 
distance was closed in by high embowered promontories. The 
foliage had a yellow autumnal tint, which gave to the sunny 
landscape the golden tone of one of the landscapes of Claude 
Lorraine. There was animation given to the scene, by a raft 
of logs and branches, on which the Captain and his prime com- 
panion, the Doctor, were ferrying their effects across the 
stream ; and by a long line of rangers on horseback, fording 
the river obliquely, along a series of sand-bars, about a mile 
and a half distant. 



CHAPTEE XIII. 
The Camp of the Glen. 

CAMP GOSSIP. — pawnees AND THEIR HABITS. — A HUNTER'S AD- 
VENTURE. — HORSES FOUND, AND MEN LOST. 

Being joined by the Captain and some of the rangers, we 
struck into the woods for about half a mile, and then entered a 
wild, rocky dell, bordered by two lofty ridges of limestone, 
which narrowed as we advanced, until they met and united; 
making almost an angle. Here a fine spring of water rose 
among the rocks, and fed a silver rill that ran the whole 
length of the dell, freshening the grass with which it was 
carpeted. 

in this rocky nook we encamped, among taU trees. The 
rangers gradually joined us, straggling through the forest 
singly or in groups ; some on horseback, some on foot, driving 
their horses before them, heavily laden with baggage, some 
dripping wet, having fallen into the river ; for they had ex- 
perienced much fatigue and trouble from the length of the 
ford, and the depth and rapidity of the stream. They looked 



A TO UK OF THE PRAIUIES. 45 

Dot unlike banditti returning with their plunder, and the wild 
dell was a retreat worthy to receive them. The effect was 
heightened after dark, when the hght of the fires was cast upon 
rugged looking groups of men and horses ; with baggage tum- 
bled in heaps, rifles piled against the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-homs hanging about their trunks. 

At the encampment we w^ere joined by the young Count and 
his companion, and the young half-breed, Antoine, who had 
all passed successt'uUy by the ford. To my annoyance, how- 
ever, I discovered that both of my horses were missing. I had 
supposed them in the charge of Antoine ; but he, with charac- 
teristic carelessness, had paid no heed to them, and they had 
probably w^andered from the line on the opposite side of the 
river. It was arranged that Beatte and Antoine should recross 
the river at an early hour of the morning, in search of them. 

A fat buck, and a number of w^ild turkeys being brought 
into the camp, we managed, with the addition of a cup of 
coffee, to make a comfortable supper ; after which I repaired 
to the Captain's lodge, which was a kind of council fire and 
gossiping place for the veterans of the. camp. 

As we were conversing together, we observed, as on former 
nights, a dusky, red glow in the west, above the summits of 
the surrounding cliffs. It was again attributed to Indian fires 
on the prairies ; and supposed to be on the western side of the 
Arkansas. If so, it was thought they must be made by some 
party of Pawnees, as the Osage hunters seldom ventured in 
that quarter. Our half-breeds, however, pronounced them 
Osage fires; and that they were on the opposite side of the 
Arkansas. 

The conversation now turned upon the Pawnees, into whose 
hunting grounds we were about entering. There is always 
some wild untamed tribe of Indians, who form, for a time, the 
terror of a frontier, and about whom all kinds of fearful 
stories are told. Such, at present, was the case with the Paw- 
nees, who rove the regions between the Arkansas and the Eed 
Piver, and the prairies of Texas. They were represented as 
admirable horsemen, and always on horseback; mounted on 
fleet and hardy steeds, the wild race of the prairies. With 
these they roam the great plains that extend about the Arkan- 
sas, the Eed River, and through Texas, to the Rocky Moun, 
tains; sometimes engaged in hunting the deer and buffalo, 
sometimes in warlike and predatory expeditions ; for, like their 
counterparts, the sons of Ishmael, their hand is against every 



46 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

one, and every one's hand against them. Some of them have 
QO fixed habitation, but dwell in tents of skin, easily packed 
up and transported, so that they are here to-day, and away, no 
one knows where, to-morrow. 

One of the veteran hunters gave several anecdotes of theii" 
mode of fighting. Luckless, according to his account, is the 
band of weary traders or hunters descried by them, in the 
midst of a praiiie. Sometunes, they will steal upon them by 
stratagem, hanging with one leg over the saddle, and their 
bodies concealed ; so that their troop at a distance has the ap- 
pearance of a gang of wild horses. When they have thus 
gained sufficiently upon the enemy, they will suddenly raise 
Dhemselves in their saddles, and come like a rushing blast, all 
fluttering with feathers, shaking their mantles, brandishing 
their weapons, and making hideous yells. In this way, they 
seek to strike a panic into the horses, and put them to the 
scamper, when they will pursue and carry them off in tri- 
umph. 

The best mode of defence, according to this vetern woods- 
man, is to get into the covert of some wood, or thicket ; or if 
there be none at hand, to dismount, tie the horses firmly head 
to head in a circle, so that they cannot break away and scatter, 
and resort to the shelter of a ravine, or make a hollow in the 
sand, where they may be screened from the shafts of the Paw- 
nees. The latter chiefly use the bow and arrow, and are dex- 
terous archers; circling round and round their enemy, and 
launching their arrows when at full speed. They are chiefly 
formidable on the prairies, where they have free career for 
thoir horses, and no trees to turn aside their arrows. They 
will rarely follow a flying enemy into the forest. 

Several anecdotes, also, Avere given, of the secrecy and cau- 
tion with which they will folloAv, and hang about the camp of 
an enemy, seeking a favorable moment for plunder or attack. 

"We must now begin to keep a sharj) look-out," said the 
Captain. "I must issue written orders, that no man shall 
hunt without leave, or fire off a gun, on pain of riding a wooden 
horse with a sharp back. I have a wild crew of young fellows, 
unaccustomed to frontier service. It will be difficult to teach 
them caution. We are now in the land of a silent, watchful, 
crafty people, who, w^hen we least suspect it, may be around 
us, spying out all our movements, and ready to pounce upon all 
stragglers." 

' ' How will you be able to keep your men from firing, if they 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 47 

see game while strolling round the camp?" asked one of tho 
rangers. 

' ' They must not take their guns with them unless they are 
on duty, or have permission." 

"Ah, Captain!" cried the ranger, "that will never do for 
me. Where I go, my rifle goes. I never like to leave it be- 
hind ; it's like a part of myself. There's no one will take such 
care of it as I, and there's nothing will take such care of me as 
my rifle." 

"There's truth in all that," said the Captain, touched by a 
true hunter's sympathy. ' ' I've had my rifle pretty nigh as 
long as I have had my wife, and a faithful friend it has been 
to me." 

Here the Doctor, who is as keen a hunter as the Captain, 
joined in the conversation : "A neighbor of mine says, next to 
my rifle, I'd as leave lend you my wife." 

"There's few," observed the Captain, "that take care of 
their rifles as they ought to be taken care of. " 

" Or of their wives either," replied the Doctor, with a wink. 

" That's a fact," rejoined the Captain. 

Word was now brought that a party of four rangers, headed 
by "Old Ryan," were missing. They had separated from the 
main body, on the opposite side of the river, when searching 
for a ford, and had straggled off, nobody kncAv whither. 
Many conjectures were made about them, and some apprehen- 
sions expressed for their safety. 

"I should send to look after them," said the Captain, "but 
old Ryan is with them, and he knows how to take care of him- 
self and of them too. If it were not for him, I would not give 
much for the rest ; but he is as much at home in the woods or 
on a prairie as he would be in his OAvn farmyard. He's never 
lost, wherever he is. There's a good gang of them to stand by 
one another; four to watch and one to take care of the fire." 

' ' It's a disraal thing to get lost at night in a strange and wild 
country, " said one of the younger rangers. 

" Not if you have one or two in company," said an elder one. 
"For my part, I could feel as cheerful in this hollow as in my 
own home, if I had but one comrade to take turns to watch 
and keep the fire going. I could lie here for hours, and gaze 
up to that blazing star there, that seems to look down into the 
camp as if it were keeping guard over it. " 

" Aye, the stars are a kind of company to one, when you 
have to keep watch alone. That's a cheerful star, too, some- 



48 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

how ; that's the evening star, the planet Venus they call it, I 
think." 

"If that's the planet Venus," said one of the council, who, I 
believe, was the psalm-singing schoolmaster, ' ' it bodes us no 
good ; for I recollect i-eading in some book that the Pawnees 
worship that star, and sacrifice their prisoners to it. So I 
should not feel the better for the sigiit of that star in tliis part 
of the country. " 

" Well," said the sergeant, a thorough-bred woodsman, "star, 
or no star, I have passed many a night alone in a wilder place 
than this, and slept sound too, I'll warrant you. Once, how- 
ever, I had rather an uneasy time of it. I was belated in pass- 
ing through a tract of wood, near the Tombigbee Eiver ; so I 
struck a light, made a fire, and turned my horse loose, while 
I stretched myself to sleep. By and by, I heard the wolves 
howl. My horse came crowding near me for protection, for he 
was terribly frightened. I drove him off, but he returned, and 
drew nearer and nearer, and stood looking at me and at the 
fire, and dozing, and nodding, and tottering on his fore feet, 
for he was powerful tired. After a while, I heard a strange 
dismal cry. I thought at first it might be an owl. I heard it 
again, and then I knew it was not an owl, but must be a pan- 
ther. I felt rather awkward, for I had no weapon but a 
double-bladed penknife. I however prepared for defence in 
the best way I could, and piled up small brands from the fire, 
to pepper him with, should he come nigh. The company of 
my horse now seemed a comfort to me ; the poor creature laid 
down beside me and soon fell asleep, being so tired. I kept 
watch, and nodded and dozed, and started awake, and looked 
round, expecting to see the glaring eyes of the panther close 
upon me ; but somehow or other, f atigTie got the better of me, 
and I fell asleep outright. In the morning I found the tracks 
of a panther within sixty paces. They were as large as my 
two fists. He had evidently been walking backward and for- 
ward, trying to make up his mind to attack me ; but luckily, 
he had not courage." 

October 16th. — I awoke before daylight. The moon was 
shining feebly down into the glen, from among light drifting 
clouds ; the camp fires were nearly burnt out, and the men 
lying about them, wrapped in blankets. With the first streak 
of day, our huntsman, Beatte, with Antoine, the young half- 
breed, set off to recross the river, in search of the stray horses, 
in company with several rangers who had left their rifles on 



A TOUR OF THE PRAHUES. 49 

the opposite shore. As the ford was deep, and they were 
obliged to cross in a diagonal line, against a rapid current, 
they had to be mounted on the tallest and strongest horses. 

By eight o'clock, Beatte returned. He had found the horses, 
but had lost Antoine. The latter, he said, was a boy, a green- 
horn, that knew nothing of the woods. He had wandered out 
of sight of him, and got lost. However, there were plenty 
more for him to fall in company with, as some of the rangers 
had gone astray also, and old Eyan and his party had not 
returned. 

We waited until the morning was somewhat advanced, in 
hopes of being rejoined by the stragglers, but they did not 
make their appearance. The Captain observed, that the 
Indians on the opposite side of the river, were all well dis- 
posed to the wliites ; so that no serious apprehensions need be 
entertained for the safety of the missing. The greatest danger 
was, that their horses might be stolen in the night by strag- 
ghng Osages. He determined, therefore, to proceed, leaving a 
rear guard in the camp, to await their arrival. 

I sat on a rock that overhung the spring at the upper part of 
the dell, and amused myself by watching the changing scene 
before me. First, the preparations for departure. Horses 
driven in from the purlieus of the camp ; rangers riding about 
among rocks and bushes in quest of others that had strayed to 
a distance ; the bustle of packing up camp equipage, and the 
clamor after kettles and frying-pans borrowed by one mess 
from another, mixed up with oaths and exclamations at restive 
horses, or others that had wandered away to graze after being 
packed, among which the voice of our little Frenchman, 
Tonish, was particularly to be distinguished. 

The bugle sounded the signal to mount and march. The 
troop filed off in irregular line down the glen, and through thp 
open forest, winding and gradually disappearing among the 
trees, though the clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle 
could be heard for some time afterward. The rear-guard 
remained under the trees in the lower part of the dell, some on 
horseback, with their rifles on their shoulders ; others seated 
by the fire or lying on the ground, gossiping in a low, lazy 
tone of voice, their horses unsaddled, standing and dozing 
around, while one of the rangers, profiting by this interval of 
leizure, was shaving himself before a pocket mirror stuck 
against the trunk of a tree. 

The clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle at length 



50 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

died away, and the glen relapsed into quiet and silence, broken 
occasionally by the low murmuring tone of the group around 
the fire, or the pensive whistle of some laggard among the 
trees ; or the rustling of the yellow leaves, which the lightest 
breath of air brought down in wavering showers, a sign of the 
departing glories of the year. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



DEER-SHOOTING.— LIFE ON THE PRAIRIES. — BEAUTIFUL ENCAMP- 
MENT. — hunter's luck. — ANECDOTES OF THE DELA WARES AND 
THEIR SUPERSTITIONS. 

Having passed through the skirt of woodland bordering the 
river, we ascended the hills, taking a westerly course through 
an undulating country of "oak openings," where the eye 
stretched over wide tracts of hill and dale, diversified by for- 
ests, groves, and clumps of trees. As we were proceeding at a 
slow pace, those who were at the head of the line descried 
four deer grazing on a grassy slope about half a mile distant. 
They apparently had not perceived our approach, and con- 
tinued to graze in perfect tranquillity. A young ranger ob- 
tained permission from the Captain to go in pursuit of them, 
and the troop halted in lengthened line, watching him in 
silence. Walking his horse slowly and cautiously, he made a 
circuit until a screen of wood intervened between him and the 
deer. Dismounting then, he left his horse among the trees, 
and creeping round a knoll, was hidden from our view. We 
now kept our eyes intently fixed on the deer, which continued 
grazing, unconscious of their danger. Presently there was the 
sharp report of a rifle ; a fine buck made a convulsive bound 
and fell to the earth ; his companions scampered off. Immedi- 
ately our whole line of march was broken ; there was a helter- 
skelter galloping of the youngsters of the troop, eager to get a 
shot at the fugitives ; and one of the most conspicuous person- 
ages in the chase was our little Frenchman Tonish, on his 
silver-gray ; having abandoned his pack-horses at the first sight 
of the deer. It was some time before our scattered forces 
could be recalled by the bugle, and our march resumed. 

Two or three times in the course of the day we were inter- 
rupted by hurry-scurry scenes of the kind. The young men 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 51 

of the troop were full of excitement on entering an unexplored 
country abounding in game, and they were too little accus- 
tomed to discipline or restraint to be kept in order. No one, 
however, was more unmanageable than Tonish. Having an 
intense conceit of his skill as a huater, and an irrepressible 
passion for display, he was continually sallying forth, like an 
ill-broken hound, whenever any game was started, and had as 
often to be whipped back. 

At length his. curiosity got a salutary check. A fat doe 
came bounding along in full view of the whole lino. Tonish 
dismounted, levelled his rifle, and had a fair shot. The doe 
kept on. He sprang upon his horse, stood up on the saddle like 
a posture-master, and continued gazing after the animal as if 
certain to see it fall. The doe, however, kept on its way 
rejoicing ; a laugh broke out along the line, the little French- 
man slipped quietly into his saddle, began to belabor and blas- 
pheme the wandering pack-horses, as if they had been to blame, 
and for some time we were reheved from his vaunting and 
vaporing. 

In one place of our march we came to the remains of an old 
Indian encampment, on the banks of a fine stream, with the 
moss-grown skulls of deer lying here and there about it. As 
we were in the Pawnee country, it was supposed, of course, to 
to have been a camp of those formidable rovers ; the Doctor, 
however, after considering the shape and disposition of the 
lodges, pronounced it the camp of some bold Delawares, who 
had probably made a brief and dasliing excursion into these 
dangerous hunting grounds. 

Having proceeded some distance farther, we observed a cou- 
ple of figures on horseback, slowly moving parallel to us along 
the edge of a naked hill about two miles distant ; and appar- 
ently reconnoitring us. There was a halt, and much gazing 
and conjecturing. Were they Indians? If Indians, were they 
Pawnees? There is something exciting to the imagination and 
stirring to the feelings, while traversing these hostile plains, in 
seeing a horseman prowling along the horizon. It is like de- 
scrying a sail at sea in time of war, when it may be either a 
privateer or a pirate. Our conjectures were soon set at rest 
by reconnoitring the two horsemen through a small spyglass, 
when they proved to be two of the men we had left at the 
camp, who had set out to rejoin us, and had wandered from 
the track. 

Our march this day was animating and delightful. Wo 



52 • A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 

were in a region of adventure ; breaking our way through a 
country hitherto untrodden by white men, excepting perchance 
by some sohtary trapper. The weather was in its perfection, 
temperate, genial and enhvening ; a deep blue sky with a few 
light feathery clouds, an atmosphere of perfect transparency, 
an air pure and bland, and a glorious country spreading out 
far and wide in the golden sunshine of an autumnal day ; but 
all silent, lifeless, without a human habitation, and apparently 
without a human inhabitant ! It was as if a ban hung over 
tliis fair but fated region. The very Indians dared not. abide 
here, but made it a mere scene of perilous enterprise, to hunt 
for a few days, and then away. 

After a march of about fifteen miles west we encamped in a 
beautiful peninsula, ma,de by the windings and doublings of a 
deep, clear, and almost motionless brook, and covered by an 
open grove of lofty and magnificent trees. Several hunters 
immediately started forth in quest of game before the noise of 
the camp should frighten it from the vicinity. Our man, 
Beatte, also took his rifle and went forth alone, in a different 
course from the rest. 

For my own part, I lay on the grass under the trees, and 
built castles in the clouds, and indulged in the very luxury of 
rural repose. Indeed I can scarcely conceive a kind of life 
more calculated to put both mind and body in a healthful tone. 
A morning's ride of several hours diversified by hunting inci- 
dents; an encampment in the afternoon under some noble 
grove on the borders of a stream ; an evening banquet of veni- 
son, fresh killed, roasted, or broiled on the coals; turkeys 
just from the thickets and wild honey from the trees; and all 
relished with an appetite unknown to the gourmets of the cities. 
And at night — such sweet sleeping in the open air, or waking 
and gazing at the moon and stars, shining between the trees ! 

On the present occasion, however, we had not much reason 
to boast of our larder. But one deer had been killed during the 
day, and none of that had reached our lodge. We were fain, 
therefore, to stay our keen appetites by some scraps of turkey 
brought from the last encampment, eked out with a slice or 
two of salt pork. This scarcity, however, did not continue 
long. Before dark a young hunter returned well laden with 
spoil. He had shot a deer, cut it up in an artist-like style, and, 
putting the meat in a kind of sack made of the hide, had slung 
it across his shoulder and trudged with it to camp. 

Not long after, Beatte made his ax^pearance with a fat doe 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 53 

across his horse. It was the first game he had brought in, and 
I was glad to see him with a trophy that might efface the 
memory of the polecat. He laid the carcass down by our fire 
without saying a word, and then turned to unsaddle his horse; 
nor could any questions from us about his hunting draw from 
him more than laconic replies. If Beatte, however, observed 
tliis Indian taciturnity about what he had done, Tonish made 
up for it by boasting of what he meant to do. Now that we 
were in a good hunting country he meant to take the field, and, 
if we would take his word for it, our lodge would henceforth 
be overwhelmed with game. Luckily his talking did not pre- 
vent his working, the doe was skilfully dissected, several fat 
ribs roasted before the fire, the coffee kettle replenished, and 
in a little while we were enabled to indemnify ourselves luxuri- 
ously for our late meagre repast. 

The Captain did not return until late, and he returned empty- 
handed. He had been in pursuit of his usual game, the deer 
when he came upon the tracks of a gang of about sixty elk. 
Having never killed an animal of the kind, and the elk being 
at this moment an object of ambition among all the veteran 
hunters of the camp, he abandoned his pursuit of the deer 
and foUowed the newly discovered track. After some time he 
came in sight of the elk, a)id had several fair chances of a shot, 
but was anxious to bring down a large buck which kept in the 
advance. Finding at length there was danger of the whole 
gang escaping him, he fired at a doe. The shot took effect, 
but the annual had sufficient strength to keep on for a time 
with its companions. From the tracks of blood he felt confi- 
dent it was moi'tally wounded, but evening came on, he could 
not keep the trail, and had to give up the search until morn- 
ing. 

Old Eyan and his little band had not yet rejoined us, neither 
had our young half-breed Antoine made his appearance. It 
was determined, therefore,- to remain at our encampment for 
the follomng day, to give time for all stragglers to arrive. 

The conversation this evening, among the old huntsmen, 
turned upon the Delaware tribe, one of whose encampments we 
had passed in the course of the day ; and anecdotes were given 
of their prowess in war and dexterity in hunting. They used 
to be deadly foes of the Osages, who stood in great awe of their 
desperate valor, though they were apt to attribute it to a whim- 
sical cause. ' ' Look at the Dela.wares, " would they say, ' ' dey 
got short leg— no can run — must stand and fight a great hean/* 



54 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

In fact the Delawares are rather short legged, while the OsageS 
are i-emarkable for length of limb. 

The expeditions of the Delawares, whether of war or hunting, 
are wide and fearless ; a small band of them will penetrate far 
into these dangerous and hostile wilds, and will push their en- 
campments even to the Rocky Mountains. This daring tem- 
per may be in some measure encouraged by one of the super- 
stitions of their creed. They believe that a guardian spirit, in 
the form of a great eagle, watches over them, hovering in the 
sky, far out of sight. Sometimes, when well pleased with 
them, he wheels down into the lower regions, and may be seen 
circling with widespread wings against the white clouds; at 
such times the seasons are propitious, the corn grows finely, 
and they have great success in hunting. Sometimes, however, 
he is angry, and then he vents his rage in the thunder, which 
is his voice, and the lightning, which is the flashing of his eye, 
and strikes dead the object of his displeasure. 

The Delawares make sacrifices to this spirit, who occasion- 
ally lets drop a feather from his wing in token of satisfaction. 
These feathers render the wearer invisible, and invulnerable. 
Indeed, the Indians generally consider the feathers of the eagle 
possessed of occult and sovereign virtues. 

At one time a party of the Delawares, in the course of a bold 
excursion into the Pawnee hunting grounds, were surrounded 
on one of the great plains, and nearly destroyed. The remnant 
took refuge on the summit of one of those isolated and conical 
bills which rise almost like artificial mounds, from the midst 
of the prairies. Here the chief warrior, driven almost to de- 
spair, sacrificed his horse to the tutelar spirit. Suddenly an 
enormous eagle, rushing down from the sky, bore off the vic- 
tim in his talons, and mounting into the air, dropped a quiU 
feather froiii his wing. The chief caught it up with joy, bound 
it to his forehead, and, leading his followers down the hill, cut 
his way through the enemy with great slaughter, and without 
any one of his party receiving a wound. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE SEARCH FOR THE ELK. — PAWNEE STORIES. 

With the morning dawn, the prime hunters of the camp 
were all on the alert, and set off in different directions, to beat 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 55 

up the country for game. The Captain's brother, Sergeant 
Bean, Avas among the first, and returned before breakfast with 
success, having killed a fat doe, almost withui the purheus of 
the camp. 

When breakfast was over, the Captain mounted his horse, 
to go in quest of the elk which he had wounded on the preced- 
ing evening ; and which, he was persuaded, had received its 
death-wound. I determined to join him in the search, and we 
accordingly sallied forth together, accompanied also by his 
brother, the sergeant, and a lieutenant. Two rangers followed 
on foot, to bring home the carcass of the doe which the ser- 
geant had killed. We had not ridden far, when we came to 
where it lay, on the side of a hill, in the midst of a beautiful 
woodland scene. The two rangers immediately fell to work, 
with true hunters' skill, to dismember it, and prepare it for 
transportation to the camp, while we continued on our course. 
We passed along sloping hillsides, among skirts of thicket and 
scattered forest trees, until we came to a place where the long 
herbage was pressed down with numerous elk beds. Here the 
Captain had first roused the gang of elks, and, after looking 
about diligently for a little while, he pointed out their "trail," 
the foot-j)rints of which were as large as those of horned cat- 
tle. He now put himself upon the track, and went quietly for- 
ward, the rest of us following him in Indian file. At length he 
halted at the place where the elk had been when shot at. Spots 
of blood on the surrounding herbage showed that the shot had 
been effective. The wounded animal had evidently kept for* 
some distance with the rest of the herd, as could be seen by 
sprinklings of blood here and there, on the shrubs and weeds 
bordering the trail. These at length suddenly disappeared. 
" Somewheue hereabout," said the Captain, "the elk must 
have turned off from the gang. Whenever they feel them- 
selves mortally wounded, they will turn aside, and seek some 
out-of-the-way place to die alone. " 

There was something in this picture of the last moments of a 
wounded deer, to touch the sympathies of one not hardened to 
the gentle disports of the chase ; such sympathies, however, 
are but transient. ]\Ian is naturally an animal of prey ; and, 
however changed by civilization, will readily relapse into his 
instinct for destruction. I found my ravenous and sangui- 
nary propensities daily growing stronger upon the prairies. 

After looking about for a little while, the Captain succeeded 
in finding the separate trail of the wounded elk, which turned 



56 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

off almost at right angles from that of the herd, and entered 
an open forest of scattered trees. The traces of blood became 
more faint and rare, and occurred at greater distances: at 
length they ceased altogether, and the ground was so hard, 
and the herbage so much parched and withered, that the foot- 
prints of the animal could no longer be perceived. 

"The elk must lie somewhere in tliis neighborhood," said 
the Captain, "as you may know by those turkey-buzzards 
wheeling about in the air : for they always hover in that way 
above some carcass. However, the dead elk cannot get away, 
so let us follow the trail of the Hving ones : they may have 
halted at no great distance, and we may find them grazing, 
and get another crack at them." 

We accordingly returned, and resumed the trail of the elks, 
which led us a straggling course over hill and dale, covered 
with scattered oaks. Every now and then we would catch a 
glimpse of a deer bounding away across some glade of the 
forest, but the Captain was not to be diverted from his elk 
hunt by such inferior game. A large flock of wild turkeys, 
too, were roused by the trampling of our horses ; some scam- 
pered off as fast as their long legs could carry them ; others 
fluttered up into the trees, where they remained with out- 
stretched necks, gazing at us. The Captain would not allow a 
rifle to be discharged at them, lest it should alarm the elk, 
which he hoped to find in the vicinity. At length we came to 
where the forest ended in a steep bank, and the Red Fork 
wound its way below us, between broad sandy shores. The 
trail descended the bank, and we could trace it, with our eyes, 
across the level sands, until it terminated in the river, which, 
it was evident, the gang had forded on the preceding evening. 

"It is needless to follow on any farther," said the Captain. 
" The elk must have been much frightened, and, after crossing 
the river, may have kept on for twenty miles without stop- 
ping." 

Our little party now divided, the lieutenant and sergeant 
making a circuit in quest of game, and the Captain and myself 
taking the direction of the camp. On our way, we came to a 
buffalo track, more than a year old. It was not wider than an 
ordinary footpath, and worn deep into the soil; for these 
animals foUow each other in single file. Shortly afterward, 
we met two rangers on foot, hunting. They had wounded an 
elk, but he had escaped ; and in pursuing him, had found the 
one shot by the Captain on the preceding evening. They 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIEIE8. 57 

turned back, and conducted us to it. It was a noble animal, 
as large as a yearling heifer, and lay in an open part of the 
forest, about a mile and a half distant from the ploce where it 
had been shot. The turkey -buzzards, which we had previously 
noticed, were wheeling in the air above it. The observation 
of the Captain seemed verified. The poor animal, as life was 
ebbing away, had apparently abandoned its unhurt com- 
panions, and turned aside to die alone. 

The Captcin and the two rangers forthwith fell to work, 
with their hunting-knives, to flay and cut up the carcass. It 
was already tainted on the inside, but ample coUops were cut 
from the ribs and haunches, and laid in a heap on the out- 
stretched hide. Holes were then cut along the border of the 
hide, raw thongs were passed through them, and the whole 
drawn up like a sack, which was swung behind the Captain's 
saddle. All this while, the turkey-buzzards were soaring over- 
head, waiting for our departure, to swoop down and banquet 
on the carcass. 

The wreck of the poor elk being thus dismantled, the Cap- 
tain and myself mounted our horses, and jogged back to the 
camp, while the two rangers resumed their hunting. 

On reaching the camp, I found there our young half-breed, 
Antoine. After separating from Bcatte, in the search after 
the stray horses on the other side of the Arkansas, he had 
fallen upon a wrong track, which he followed for several miles, 
when he overtook old Eyan and his party, and found he had 
been following their traces. 

They all forded the Arkansas about eight miles above our 
crossing place, and found their way to our late encampment in 
the glen, where the rear-guard we had left behind was waiting 
for them. Antoine, being well mounted, and somewhat im 
patient to rejoin us, had pushed on alone, following our trail, 
to our present encampment, and bringing the carcass of a 
young bear vvhich he had killed. 

Our camp, during the residue of the day, presented a min- 
gled picture of bustle and repose. Some of the men were busy 
round the fires, jerking and roasting venison and bear's meat, 
to be packed up as a future supply. Some were stretching 
and dressing the skins of the animals they had killed ; othei*s 
were washing their clothes m the brook, and hanging them on 
the bushes to dry ; while many wore lying on the grass, and 
lazily gossiping in the shade. Every now and then a hunter 
would re! urn, on horseback or on foot, laden with game, or 



r;S A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

empty handed. Those who brought home any spoil, deposited 
it at the Captain's fire, and then filed off to their respective 
messes, to relate their day's exploits to their companions. The 
game killed at this camp consisted of six deer, one elk, two 
bears, and six or eight turkeys. 

During the last two or three days, since their wild Indian 
achievement in navigating the river, our retainers had risen 
in consequence among the rangers ; and now I found Tonish 
making himself a complete oracle among some of the raw and 
inexperienced recruits, who had never been in the wilderness. 
He had continually a knot hanging about him, and listening 
to his extravagant tales about the Pawnees, with whom he 
pretended to have had fearful encounters. His representa- 
tions, in fact, were calculated to inspire his hearers with an 
awful idea of the foe into whose lands they were intruding. 
According to his accounts, the rifle of the white man was no 
match for the bow and arrow of the Pawnee. When the rifle 
was once discharged, it took time and trouble to load it again, 
and in the meantime the enemy could keep on launching his 
shafts as fast as he could draw his bow. Then the Pawnee, 
according to Tonish, could shoot, with unerring aim, three 
hundred yards, and send his arrow clean through and through 
abuftalo; nay, he had known a Pawnee shaft pass through one 
buffalo and wound another. And then the way the Pawnees 
sheltered themselves from the shots of their enemy: they 
would hang with one leg over the saddle, crouching their bodies 
along the opposite side of their horse, and would shoot their 
arrows from under his neck, while at full speed ! 

If Tonish was to be believed, there was peril at every step in 
these debatable grounds of the Indian tribes. Pawnees lurked 
unseen among the thickets and ravines. They had their scouts 
and sentinels on the summit of the mounds which command 
a view over the prairies, where they lay crouched in the tall 
grass; only now and then raising their heads to watch the 
movements of any war or hunting party that might be passing 
in lengthened line below. At night, they would lurk round an 
encampment; crawling through the grass, and imitating the 
movements of a wolf, so as to deceive the sentinel on the out- 
post, until, having arrived sufficiently near, they would speed 
an arrow through his heart, and retreat undiscovered. In 
telling his stories, Tonish would appeal from time to time to 
Beatte, for the truth of what he said ; the only reply would be 
a nod or shrug of the shoulders; the latter being divided m 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 59 

mind between a distaste for the gasconading spirit of his com 
rade, and a sovereign contempt for the inexperience of the 
young rangers in all that he considered true knowledge. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



A. SICK CAI\ir.— THE MARCH.— THE DISABLED HORSE.— OLD RYAN 
AND THE STRAGGLERS. — SYBIPTOMS OF CHANGE OF WEATHER, 
AND CHANGE OF HUMORS. 

October 18th.— We prepared to march at the usual hour, 
but ~vord was brought to the Captain that three of the rangers, 
who had been attacked with the measles, were unable to pro- 
ceed, and that another one was missing. The last was an old 
frontiersman, by the name of Sawyer, who had gained years 
without experience ; and having sallied forth to hunt, on the pre- 
ceding day, had probably lost his way on the prairies. A 
guard of ten men was, therefore, left to take care of the sick, 
and wait for the straggler. If the former recovered sufficiently 
in the course of two or three days, :hey -vere to rejoin the 
main body, otherwise to be escorted back to the garrison. 

Taking our leave of the sick camp, vve shaped our course 
westward, along the heads of small streams, all wandering, in 
deep ravines, towards the Red Fork. The land was liigh and 
undulating, or "rolling, "as it is termed in the West; with a 
poor hungry soil mingled with the sandstone, which is unusal 
in this part of the country, and checkered with harsh forests of 
post-oak and black-jack. 

In the course of the morning, I received a lesson on the im- 
portance of being chary of one's steed on the prairies. The 
one I rode surpassed in action most horses of the Iroop, and 
was of great mettle and a generous spirit. In crossing the 
deep ravines, he would scramble up the steep banks like a cat, 
and was always for leaping the narrow runs of water. I was 
not aware of the imprudence of indulging him in such exer- 
tions, until, in leaping him across a small brook, I felt him 
iimnediately falter beneath me. He limped forward a short 
distance, but soon fell stark lame, having sprained his shoulder. 
77hat was to be done? He could not keep up with the troop, 
and was too valuable to be abandoned on the prairie. The 



60 A TOUR ON THE rRAIRIES. 

only alternative was to send him back to join the invalids in 
the sick camp, and to share their fortunes. Nobody, however, 
seemed disposed to lead him back, although I offered a liberal 
reward. Either the stories of Tonish about the Pawnees had 
spread an apprehension of lurking foes, and imminent perils on 
the prairies ; or there was a fear of missing the trail and getting 
lost. At length two young men stepped forward and agreed 
to go in company, so that, should they be benighted on the 
prairies, there might be one to watch while the other slept. 

The horse was accordingly consigned to their care, and I 
looked after him with a rueful eye, as he limped off, for it 
seemed as if, with him, all strength and buoyancy had departed 
from me. 

I looked round for a steed to supply his place, and fixed my 
eyes upon the gallant gray which I had transferred at the 
Agency to Tonish. The moment, however, that I hinted about 
his dismounting and taking up with the supernumerary pony, 
the little varlet broke out into vociferous remonstrances and 
lamentations, gasping and almost strangling, in his eagerness 
to give vent to them. I saw that to unhorse him would be to 
prostrate his spirit and cut his vanity to the quick. I had not 
the heart to inflict such a wound, or to bring down the poor 
devil from his transient vainglory; so I left him in possession 
of his gallant gray; and contented myself with sliifting my 
saddle to the jaded pony. 

I was now sensible of the complete reverse to which a horse- 
man is exposed on the prairies. I felt how completely the 
spirit of the rider depended upon his steed. I had hitherto 
been able to make excursions at will from the line, and to gallop 
in pursuit of any object of interest or curiosity. I was now 
reduced to the tone of the jaded animal I bestrode, and doomed 
to plod on patiently and slowly after my file leader. Above all, 
I was made conscious how unwise it is, on expeditions of the 
kind, where a man's life may depend upon the strength, and 
npeed, and freshness of his horse, to task the generous animal 
by any unnecessary exertion of his powers. 

I have observed that the wary and experienced huntsman 
and traveller of the prairies is always sparing of his horse, 
when on a journey ; never, except in emergency, putting him 
off of a walk. The regular journeyings of frontiersmen and In- 
dians, when on a long march seldom exceed above fifteen miles 
a day, and are generally about ten or twelve, and they never 
indulge in capricious galloping. Many of those, however, with 



A TOUll ON THE PRAlltlES. 61 

whom I was travelling were young and inexperienced, and full 
of excitement at finding themselves in a country abounding 
with game. It was impossible to retain them in the sobriety of 
a march, or to keep them to the hne. As we broke our way 
thi'ough the coverts and ravines, and the deer started up and 
scampered off to the right and left, the rifle balls would whiz 
after them, and our young hunters dash off in pursuit. At one 
time they made a grand burst after what they supposed to be 
a gang of bears, but soon i^ulled up on discovering them to be 
black wolves, prowling in company. 

After a march of about twelve miles we encamped, a little after 
mid-day, on the borders of a brook which loitered through a 
deep ravine. In the course of the afternoon old Eyan, the 
Nestor of the camp, made his appearance, followed by his little 
band of stragglers. He was greeted with joyful acclamations, 
which showed the estimation in which he was held by his 
brother Avoodmen. The little band came laden with venison; 
a fine haunch of which the veteran hunter laid, as a present, by 
the Captain's fire. 

Our men, Beatte and Tonish, both sallied forth, early in the 
afternoon, to hunt. Towards evening the former returned, 
with a fine buck across his horse. He laid it down, as usual, in 
silence, and proceeded to unsaddle and turn his horse loose. 
Tonish came back without any game, but with much more 
glory; having made several capital shots, though unluckily 
the wounded deer had all escaped him. 

There was an abundant supply of meat in the camp; for, 
besides other game, three elk had been killed. The wary and 
veteran woodmen were all busy jerking meat, against a time 
of scarcity; the less experienced revelled in present abimd- 
ance, leaving the morrow to provide for itself. 

On the following morning (October 19th), I succeeded in 
changing my pony and a reasonable sum of money for a 
strong and active horse. It was a great satisfaction to find 
myself once more tolerably well mounted. I perceived, how- 
ever, that there would be little difficulty in making a selection 
from among the troop, for the rangers had all that propensity 
for "swapping," or, as they term it, "trading," which per- 
vades the West. In the course of our expedition, there was 
scarcely a horse, rifle, powder-horn, or blanket that did not 
change owners several times; and one keen "trader" boasted 
of having, by dint of frequent bargains, changed a bad horse 
into a good one, and put a hundred dollars in his pocket. 



69 -4 TOUR ON THE mAlRIES. 

The morning was lowering and sultry, with low muttering 
of distant thunder. The change of weather had its effect upon 
the spirits of the troop. The camp was unusually sober and 
quiet ; there was none of the accustomed farmyard melody of 
crowing and cackling at daybreak ; none of the bursts of mer- 
riment, the loud jokes and banterings, that had commonly 
prevailed during the bustle of equipment. Now and then 
might be heard a short strain of a song, a faint laugh, or a soli- 
tary whistle ; but, in general, every one went silently and dog- 
gedly about the duties of the camp, or the preparations for 
departure. 

When the time arrived to saddle and mount, five horses were 
reported as missing ; although all the woods and thickets had 
been beaten up for some distance round the camp. Several 
rangers were dispatched to "skir" the country round in quest 
of them. In the meantime, the thunder continued to growl, and 
we had a passing shower. The horses, like their riders, were 
affected by the change of weather. They stood here and there 
about the camp, some saddled and bridled, others loose, but all 
spiritless and dozing, with stooping head, one hind leg partly 
drawn up so as to rest on the point of the hoof, and the whole 
hide reeking with the rain, and sending up wreaths of vapor. 
The men, too, waited in hstless groups the return of their com- 
rades who had gone in quest of the horses.; now and then turn- 
ing up an anxious eye to the drifting clouds, which boded an 
approaching storm. Gloomy weather inspires gloomy thoughts. 
Some expressed fears that we were dogged by some party of 
Indians, who had stolen the horses in the night. The most 
prevalent apprehension, however, was that they had returned 
on their traces to our last encampment, or had started off on 
a direct line for Fort Gibson. In this respect, the instinct of 
horses is said to resemble that of the pigeon. They will strike 
for home by a direct course, passing through tracts of wilder- 
ness which they have never before traversed. 

After delaying until the morning was somewhat advanced, a 
lieutenant with a guard was appointed to await the return of 
the rangers, and we set off on our day's journey, considerably 
reduced in numbers ; much, as I thought, to the discomposure 
of some of the troop, who intimated that we might prove too 
weak-handed, in case of an encounter with the Pawnees. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 63 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THUNDER-STORM ON THE PRAIRIES. — THE STORM ENCAMPMENT.— > 
NIGHT SCENE. — INDIAN STORIES. — A FRIGHTENED HORSE. 

Our march for a part of the day ; lay a httle to the south of 
west, tlii'ough stragghng forests of the kind of low scrubbed 
trees already mentioned, called "post-oaks" and "black-jacks." 
The soil of these "oak barrens" is loose and unsound; being 
little better at times than a mere quicksand, in wliich, in rainy 
weather, the horse's hoof slips from side to side, and now and 
then sinks in a rotten, spongy turf, to the fetlock. Such was 
the case at present in consequence of successive thunder- 
showers, through which we draggled along in dogged silence. 
Several deer were roused by our approach, and scudded across 
the forest glades ; but no one, as formerly, broke the hne of 
march to pursue them. At one tune, we passed the bones and 
horns of a buffalo, and at another time a buffalo track, not 
above thi^ee days old. These signs of the vicinity of this 
grand game of the prairies, had a reviving effect on the spirits 
of our huntsmen ; but it was of transient duration. 

In crossing a prairie of moderate extent, rendered httle bet- 
ter than a slippery bog by the recent showers, we were over- 
taken by a violent thunder-gust. The rain came rattling upon 
^ us in torrents, and spattered up like steam along the ground ; 
the whole landscape was suddenly wrapped in gloom that gave 
a vivid effect to the intense sheets of lightning, while the thun- 
der seemed to burst over our very heads, and was reverbe- 
rated by the groves and forests that checkered and skirted the 
prairie. Man and beast were so pelted, drenched, and con- 
founded, that the line was thrown in complete confusion ; some 
of the horses were so frightened p.s to be almost unmanage- 
able, 'and our scattered cavalcade looked like a tempest-tossed 
fleet, driven hither and thither, at the mercy of wind and 
wave. 

At length, at half -past two o'clock, we came to a halt, and 
gathering together our forces, encamped in an open and lofty 
grove, with a prairie on one side and a stream on the other. 
The forest immediately rang with the sound of the axe, and 
the crash of falling trees. Huge fires were soon blazing ; blan- 
kets were stretched before them, by way of tents ; booths were 
hastily reared of bark and skins; every fire had its group 



64 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

drawn close round it, drying and warming themselves, or prO' 
paring a comforting meal. Some of the rangers were dis> 
charging and cleaning their rifles, which had been exposed to 
the rain ; while the horses, relieved from their saddles and 
burdens, rolled in the wet grass. 

The showers continued from time to time, until late in the 
evening. Before dark, our horses were gathered in and teth- 
ered about the skirts of the camp, within the outposts, through 
fear of Indian prowlers, who are apt to take advantage of 
stormy nights for their depredations and assaults. As the 
night thickened, the huge fires became more and more lumi- 
nous ; lighting up masses of the overhanging foliage, and leav- 
ing other parts of the grove in deep gloom. Every fire had its 
goblin group around it, while the tethered horses were dimly 
seen, like spectres, among the thickets; excepting that here 
and there a gray one stood out in bright relief. 

The grove, thus fitfully lighted up by the ruddy glare of the 
fires, resembled a vast leafy dome, walled in by opaque dark- 
ness ; but every now and then two or three quivering flashes 
of Ughtning in quick succession, would suddenly reveal a vast 
champaign country, where fields and forests, and running 
streams, would start, as it were, into existence for a few 
brief seconds, and, before the eye could ascertain them, vanish 
again into gloom. 

A thunder-storm on a prairie, as upon the ocean, derives 
grandeur and sublimity from the wild and boundless wast^ 
over which it rages and bellows. It is not surprising that 
these awful phenomena of nature should be objects of super- 
stitious reverence to the poor savages, and that they should 
consider the thunder the angry voice of the Great Spirit. As 
our half-breeds sat gossiping round the fire, I drew from them 
some of the notions entertained on the subject by their Indian 
friends. The latter declare that extinguished thunderbolts are 
sometimes picked up by hunters on the prairies, who us6 them 
for the heads of arrows and lances, and that any warrior thus 
armed is invincible. Should a thunder-storm occur, however, 
during battle, he is liable to be carried away by the thunder, 
and never heard of more. 

A warrior of the Konza tribe, bunting on a prairie, was 
overtaken by a storm, and struck down senseless by the 
thunder. On recovering, he beheld the thunderbolt lying on 
the ground, and a horse standing beside it. Snatching up the 
bolt, he sprang upon the horse, but found, too late, that he 



A TOUR OJy THE PRAIRIES. 65 

was astride of the lightning. In an instant he was whisked 
away over prairies and forests, and streams and deserts, until 
he was flung senseless at the foot of the Rocky Mountains; 
whence, on recovering, it took him several months to return 
to his own people. 

This story reminded me of an Indian tradition, related by a 
traveller, of the fate of a warrior who saw the thunder lying 
upon the ground, with a beautifully wrought moccason on 
each side of it. Thinking he had found a prize, he put on the 
moccasons; but they bore him away to the land of spirits, 
whence he never returned. 

These are simple and artless tales, but they had a wild and 
romantic interest heard from the lips of half -savage narrators, 
round a hunter's fire, on a stormy night, with a forest on one 
side, and a howling waste on the other ; and where, peradven- 
ture, savage foes might be lurking in the outer darkness. 

Our conversation was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder, 
followed immediately by the sound of a horse galloping off 
m.adly into the waste. Every one Hstened in mute silence. 
The hoofs resounded vigorously for a time, but grew fainter 
and fainter, until they died away in remote distance. 

When the sound was no longer to be heard, the listeners 
turned to conjecture what could have caused this sudden 
scamper. Some thought the horse had been startled by the 
thunder; others, that some lurking Indian had galloped off 
with him. To this it was objected, that the usual mode with 
the Indians is to steal quietly upon the horse, take off his 
fetters, mount him gently, and walk him off as silently as pos- 
sible, leading off others, without any unusual stir or noise to 
disturb the camp. 

On the other hand, it was stated as a common practice with 
the Indians, to creep among a troop of horses when grazing at 
night, mount one quietly, and then start off suddenly at full 
speed. Nothing is so contagious among horses as a panic; one 
sudden break-away of this kind, will sometimes alarm the 
whole troop, and they will set off, helter-skelter, after the 
leader. 

Every one who had a horse grazing on the skirts of the 
camp was uneasy, lest his should be the fugitive ; but it was 
impossible to ascertain the fact until morning. Those who 
had tethered their horses felt more secure; though horses 
thus tied up, and limited to a short range at night, are apt 
to fall off in flesh and strength, during a long march; and 



66 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

many of the horses of the trooj) already gave signs of being 
wayworn. 

After a gloomy and unruly night, the morning dawned 
bright and clear, and a glorious sunrise transformed the whole 
landscape, as if by magic. The late dreary wilderness bright- 
ened into a fine open country, with stately groves, and clumps 
of oaks of a gigantic size, some of which stood singly, as if 
planted for ornament and shade, in the midst of rich meadows; 
while our horses, scattered about, and grazing under them, 
gave to the whole the air of a noble park. It was difficult to 
realize the fact that we were so far in the wilds beyond the 
residence of man. Our encampment, alone, had a savage 
appearance ; with its rude tents of skins and blankets, and its 
columns of blue smoke rising among the trees. 

The first care in the morning, was to look after our horses. 
Some of them had wandered to a distance, but all were fortu- 
nately found ; even the one whose clattering hoofs had caused 
such uneasiness in the night. He had come to a halt about a 
mile from the camp, and was found quietly grazing near a 
brook. The bugle sounded for departure about halt past eight. 
As we were in greater risk of Indian molestation the farther 
we advanced, our line was formed with more precision than 
heretofore. Every one had his station assigned him, and was 
forbidden to leave it in pursuit of game, without special per- 
mission. The pack-horses were placed in the centre of the 
line, and a strong guard in the rear. 



CHAPTER XVin. 



A QRAKD PRAIRIE. — CLIFF CASTLE. — BUFFALO TRACKS.— DEER 
HUNTED BY WOLVES. — CROSS TIMBER. 

After a toilsome march of some distance through a country 
cut up by ravines and brooks, and entangled by thickets, we 
emerged upon a grand prairie. Here one of the characteristic 
scenes of the Far West broke upon us. An immense extent oi 
gi-assy, undulating, or, as it is termed, roUing country, with 
here and there a clump of trees, dimly seen in the distance 
like a ship at sea ; the landscape deriving sublimity from its 
vastness and simplicity. To the southwest, on the summit of 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 67 

a hill, was a singular crest of broken rocks, resembling a 
ruined fortress. It reminded me of the ruin of some Moorish 
castle, crowning a height in the midst of a lonely Spanish 
landscape. To this hill we gave the name of Cliff Castle. 

The prairies of these great hunting regions differed in the 
character of their vegetation from those through whick I had 
hitherto passed. Instead of a profusion of tall flowering 
plants and long flaunting grasses, they were covered with 
a shorter growth of herbage called buffalo grass, somewhat 
coarse, but, at the proper seasons, affording excellent and 
abundant pasturage. At present it was growing wiry, and in 
many places was too much parched for grazing. 

The weather was verging into that serene but somewhat 
arid season called the Indian Summer. There was a smoky 
haze in the atmosphere that tempered the brightness of the 
sunshine into a golden tint, softening the features of the land- 
scape, and giving a vagueness to the outlines of distant 
objects. This haziness was daily increasing, and was attri- 
buted to the burning of distant prairies by the Indian hunting 
parties. 

We had not gone far upon the prairie before we came to 
where deeply worn f ootpathswere seen traversing the country : 
sometimes two or three would keep on parallel to each other, 
and but a few paces apart. These were pronounced to be 
traces of buffaloes, where large droves had passed. There 
were tracks also of horses, which were observed with some 
attention by our experienced hunters. They could not be the 
tracks of wild horses, as there were no prints of the hoofs of 
colts ; all were full-grown. As the horses evidently were not 
shod, it was concluded they must belong to some hunting 
party of Pawnees. In the course of the morning, the tracks 
of a single horse, with shoes, were discovered. This niight be 
the horse of a Cherokee hunter, or perhaps a horse stolen from 
the whites of the frontier. Thus, in traversing these perilous 
wastes, every footprint and dint of hoof becomes matter of 
cautious inspection and shrewd surmise ; and the question con- 
tinually is, whether it be the trace of friend or foe, whether of 
recent or ancient date, and whether the being that made it be 
out of reach, or liable to be encountered. 

We were getting more and more into the game country : as 
we proceeded, we repeatedly saw deer to the right and left, 
bounding off for the coverts ; but their appearance no longer 
excited the same eagerness to pursue. In passing along a 



68 A TOUR ON THE PRAIU1E8. 

slope of the prairie, between two rolling swells of land, we 
came in sight of a genuine natural hunting match. A pack of 
seven black wolves and one white one were in full chase of a 
buck, which they had nearly tired down. They crossed the 
line of our march without apparently perceiving us ; we saw 
them have a fair run of nearly a mile, gaining upon the buck 
until they were leaping upon his haunches, when he plunged 
iown a ravine. Some of our party galloped to a rising ground 
commanding a view of the ravine. The poor buck was com- 
pletely beset, some on his flanks, some at his throat : he made 
two or three struggles and desperate bounds, but was dragged 
down, overpowered, and torn to pieces. The black wolves, in 
their ravenous hunger and fury, took no notice of the distant 
group of horsemen ; but the white wolf, apparently less game, 
abandoned the prey, and scampered over hill and dale, rousing 
various deer that were crouched in the hollows, and which 
bounded o^ hkewise in different directions. It was altogether 
a wild scene, worthy of the "hunting grounds." 

We now came once more in sight of the Red Fork, winding 
its turbid course between well- wooded hills, and through a 
vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on 
the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so 
beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid out by 
the hand of taste ; and they only want here and there a village 
spire, the battlements of a castle, or the turrets of an old 
family mansion rising from among the trees, to rival the most 
ornamented scenery oT Europe. 

About midday we reached the edge of that scattered belt of 
forest land, about forty miles in width, which stretches across 
the country from north to south, from the Arkansas to the 
Eed River, separating the upper from the lower prairies, and 
commoiily called the "Cross Timber." On the skirts of this 
torest land, just on the edge of a prairie, we found traces of a 
Pawnee encampment of between one and two hundred lodges, 
showing that the party must have been numerous. The skuli 
of a buffalo lay near the camp, and the moss which had gath- 
ered on it proved that the encampment was at least a year old. 
About half a mile off we encamped in a beautiful grove, 
watered by a fine spring and rivulet. Our day's journey had 
been about fourteen miles. 

In the course of the afternoon we were rejoined by two of 
Lieutenant King's party, which we had left behind a few days 
before, to look after stray horses. All the horses had been 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 69 

found, though some had wandered to the distance of several 
miles. The lieutenant, with seventeen of his companions, had 
remained at our last night's encampment to hunt, having come 
upon recent traces of buffalo. They had also seen a fine wild 
horse, which, however, had galloped off with a speed that 
defied pui*suit. 

Confident anticipations v/ere now indulged, that on the fol- 
lowing day we should meet with buffalo, and perhaps with 
wild horses, and every one was in spirits. We needed some 
excitement of the kind, for our young men were grooving 
weary of marching and encamping under restraint, and pro- 
visions this day were scanty. The Captain and several of the 
rangers went out hunting, but brought home nothing but a 
small deer and a few turkeys. Our two men, Beatte and 
Tonish, likewise went out. The former returned with a deer 
athwart his horse, which, as usual, he laid down by our lodge, 
and said nothing. Tonish returned with no game, but with 
liis customary budget of wonderful tales. Both he and the 
deer had done marvels. Not one had come within the lure of 
his rifle without being hit in a mortal part, yet, strange to say, 
every one had kept on his way without flinching. We all 
determined that, from the accuracy of his aim, Tonish must 
have shot with charmed balls, but that every deer had a 
charmed hfe. The most important intelligence brought by 
him, however, was, that he had seen the fresh tracks of 
several wild horses. He now considered himself upon the 
eve of great exploits, for there was nothing upon which he 
glorified himself more than his skill in horse-catching. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

hunters' anticipations. — THE RUGGED FORD. — A WILD HORSE. 

October 21st. — This morning the camp was in a bustle at an 
early hour: the expectation of falling in with buffalo in the 
course of the day roused every one's spirit. There was a 
continual cracking of rifles, that they might be reloaded: 
the shot was drawn off from double-barrelled guns, and balls 
were substituted. Tonish, however, prepared chiefly for a 
campaign against wild horses. He took the field, with a coil 
of cordage hung at his saddle-bow, and a couple of white 



70 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

wands, something like fishing-rods eight or ten feet in length, 
with forked ends. The coil of cordage thus used in hunting 
the wild horse, is called a lariat, and answers to the lasso of 
South America. It is not flung, however, in the graceful and 
dexterous Spanish style. The hunter after a hard chase, when 
he succeeds in getting almost head and head with the wild 
horse, hitches the running noose of the lariat over his head by 
means of the forked stick; then letting him have the full 
length of the cord, plays liim hke a fish, and chokes him into 
subjection. 

All this Tonish promised to exemplify to our full satisfac- 
tion; we had not much confidence in his success, and feared 
he might knock up a good horse in a headlong gallop after 
a bad one, for, like all the French Creoles, he was a merciless 
hard rider. It was determined, therefore, to keep a sharp eye 
upon him, and to check his sallying propensities. 

We had not proceeded far on our morning's march, when we 
were checked by a deep stream, running along the bottom of a 
thickly wooded ravine. After coasting it for a couple of miles, 
we came to a fording place; but to get down to it was the 
difficulty, for the banks were steep and crumbling, and over- 
grown with forest trees, mingled with thickets, brambles, and 
grape-vines. At length the leading horseman broke his way 
through the thicket, and his horse, putting his feet together, 
slid down the black crumbling bank, to the narrow margin of 
the stream ; then floundering across, with mud and water up 
to the saddle-girths, he scrambled up the opposite bank, and 
, arrived safe on level ground. The whole line followed pell- 
mell after the leader, and pushing forward in close order, 
Indian file, they crowded each other down the bank and into 
the stream. Some of the horsemen missed the ford, and were 
soused over head and ears; one was unhorsed, and plumped 
head foremost into the middle of the stream: for my own 
part, while pressed forward, and hurried over the bank by 
those behind me, I was interrupted by a grape-vine, as thick as 
a cable, which hung in a festoon as low as the saddle-bow, and 
dragging me from the saddle, threw me among the feet of the 
trampling horses. Fortunately-, I escaped without injury, 
regained my steed, crossed the stream without further diffi- 
culty, and was enabled to join in the merrunent occasioned by 
the ludicrous disasters. 

It is at passes like this that occur the most dangerous ambus- 
cades and sanguinary suri^isorj of Indian warfare* A party of 



A TOUR ON THE PEAIPJE8. 71 

sav^ages well placed among the thickets, might have made sad 
havoc among our men, while entangled in the ravine. 

We now came out upon a vast and glorious prairie, spreading 
out T^eneath the golden beams of an autumnal sun. The deep' 
and frequent traces of buffalo, showed it to be one of their 
favorite grazing grounds, yet none were to be seen. In the 
course of the morning ; we were overtaken by the heutenant 
and seventeen men, who had remained behind, and who came 
laden with the spoils of buffaloes ; having killed three on the 
preceding day. One of the rangers, however, had Kttle luck 
to boast of; his horse having taken fright at sight of the 
buffaloes, thrown his rider, and escaped into the woods. 

The excitement of our hunters, both young and old, now rose 
almost to fever height ; scarce any of them having ever encoun- 
tered any of this far-famed game of the prairies. Accord- 
ingly, when in the course of the day the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! 
rose from one part of the line, the whole oroop were thrown in 
agitation. We were just then passing through a beautiful 
part of the prairie, finely diversified by hills and" slopes, and 
woody dells, and high, stately groves. Those who had given 
the alarm, pointed out a large black-looking animal, slowly 
moving along the side of a rising ground, about gwo miles off. 
The ever-ready Tonish jumped ap, and stood with his feet on 
the saddle, and his forked sticks in his liands, hke a posture- 
master or scaramouch at a circus, just ready for a feat of 
horsemanship. After gazing at the animal for a moment, 
which he could have seen full as w^ell without rising from his 
stirrups, he pronounced it a wild horse; and dropping again 
into his saddle, was about to dash off fuU tilt in pursuit, 
when, to his inexpressible chagrin, he was called back, and 
ordered to keep to his post, in rear of the baggage horses. 

The Captain and two of his officers now set off to recon- 
noitre the game. It was the intention of the Captain, who was 
an admirable marksman, to endeavor to crease the horse ; that 
is to say, to hit him with a rifle ball in the ridge of the neck. 
A wound of this kind paralyzes a horse for a moment ; he falls 
to the ground, and may be secured before he recovers. It is a 
cruel expedient, however, for an ill-directed shot may kill 
or maim the noble animal. 

As the Captain and his companions moved off laterally and 
slowly, in the direction of the hoi^se, we continued our course 
forward; watching intently, however, the movements of the 
game. The horse moved quietly over the profile of the rising 



72 A TOUR ON Tlin rilAIltlKS. 

ground, and disappeared behind it. The Captain and his pa,rt^ 
were hkewise soon hidden by an intervening hill. 

After a time, the horse suddenly made his appearance to our 
right, just ahead of the line, emerging out of a small valley, on 
a brisk trot ; having evidently taken the alarm. At sight of us 
he stopped short, gazed at us for an instant with surprise, then 
tossing up his head, trotted off in fine style, glancing at us first 
over one shoulder, then over the other, his ample mane and 
tail streaming in the wind. Having dashed through a skirt of 
thicket, that looked like a hedge-row, he paused in the open 
field beyond, glanced back at us again, with a beautiful bend 
of the neck, snuffed the air, then tossing his head again, broke 
into a gallop, and took refuge in a wood. 

It was the first time I had ever seen a horse pcouring his 
native wilderness in all the pride and freedom of his nature^ 
How different from the poor, mutilated, harnessed, checked, 
reined-up victim of luxury, caprice, and avarice, in our 
cities ! 

After travelhng about fifteen miles, we encamped about one 
o'clock, tuat our hunters raight have time to procure a supply 
of provisions. Our encampment was in a spacious grove of 
lofty oaks and walnuts, free from underwood, on the border 
of a brook. While unloading the pack-horses, our little 
Frenchman was loud in his complaints at having been pre- 
vented from pursuing the wild horse, wliich he would certainly 
have taken. In the meantime, I saw our half-breed, Beatte, 
quietly saddle his best horse, a powerful steed of haLf-savage 
race, hang a lariat at the saddle-bow, take a rifle and forked 
stick in hand, and, mounting, depart from the camp without 
saying a word. It was evident he was going off in quest of the 
wild horse, but was disposed to hunt alone. 



CHAPTER XX. 
The Camp of the Wild Horse. 

hunters' stories. — HABITS OB' THE WILD HORSE.— THE HALF- 
BREED AND HIS PRIZE. — A HORSE CHASE. — A WILD SPIRIT TAMED» 

We had encamped in a good neighborhood for game, ag 
the reports of rifles in various directions speedily gave notice 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 73 

One of our huntere soon retur: ed with the 1 leat of a doc^ tied 
up in the skin, and slun£: across hij shou' lers. Al fcher 
brought a fat buck across his horse. Two other deer were 
brought in, and a numbei* of turkeys. All the game was 
thro^\ai down in front of th :) Captain's fire, to be \ ortionc i out 
among the various messes. The spits and camp kettles were 
scon m fuU employ, and throughout the evening Ihere \ zb a 
scene of hunters' feasting and profusion. 

We had been disappointed this day in our hopes of meeting 
with buffalo, but the sight of the wild horse had been a g: eat 
novelty, and gave a turn to the conversation of the camp for 
the evening- There were several anecdotes told of a famous 
gray horse, which has ranged the prairies of this neighborhood 
for six or seven years, setting at naught every attempt of the 
hunters to capture Mm. They say he can pace and rack (or 
amble) faster than the fleetest horses can run. Equally mar- 
vellous accounts were given of a black horse on the Brazos, 
who grazed the prairies on that river's banks in Texas. For 
years he outstripped all pursuit. His fame spread far and 
wide ; offers were made for him to the amount of a thousand 
dollars; the boldest and most hard-riding hunters tried in- 
cessantly to make prize of him, but m vain. At length he 
fell a victim to liis gallantry, being decoyed under a tree by 
a tame mare, and a noose dropped over his head by a boy 
perched among the branches. 

The capture of a wild horse is one of the most favorite 
achievements of the prairie tribes ; and, indeed, it is from this 
source that the Indian hunters chiefly supply themselves. 
The wfld horses which range those vast grassy plains, extend- 
ing from the Arkansas to the Spanish settlements, are of 
various forms and colors, betraying their various descents. 
Some resemble the common English stock, and are probably 
descended from horses which have escaped from our border 
settlements. Others are of a low but strong make, and are 
supposed to be of the Andalusian breed, brought out by the 
Spanish discoverers. 

Some fanciful speculatists Lave seen in. them descendants of 
the Arab stock, brought into Spain from Africa, and thence 
transferred to this country ; and have pleased themselves with 
the idea, that their sii-es may have been of the pure coursers of 
the desert, that once bore Mahomet and his warhke disciples 
across the sandy plains of Arabia. 

The habits of the Arab seem to have come with the steed. 



74 A TOUR ON THE rHAUUES. 

The introduction of the horse on the boundless prairies of the 
Far West, changed the whole mode of living of their inhabi- 
tants. It gave them that facility of rapid motion, and of sud- 
den and distant change of place, so dear to the roving propen- 
sities of man. Instead of lurking in the depths of gloomy 
forests, and patiently threading the mazes of a tangled wilder- 
ness on foot, hke his brethren of the north, the Indian of the 

^ West is a rover of tlie plain ; he leads a brighter and more 
sunshiny life; almost always on horseback, on vast flowery 
prairies and under cloudless skies. 

I was lying by the Captain's fire, late in the evening, lis- 
tening to stories about those coursers of the prairies, and 
weaving speculations of my own, when there was a clamor of 
voices and a loud cheering at the other end of the camp ; and 
word was passed that Beatte, the half-breed, had brought in a 
wild horse. 

In an instant every fire was deserted; the whole camp 
crowded to see the Indian and his prize. It was a colt about 
two years old, well grown, finely limbed, with bright promi- 
nent eyes, and a spirited yet gentle demeanor. He gazed 
about him with an air of mingled stupefaction and surprise, 
at the men, the horses, and the camp-fires; while the Indian 
stood before him with folded arms, having hold of the other 
end of the cord which noosed his captive, and gazing on him 
with a most imperturbable aspect. Beatte, as I have before 
observed, has a greenish olive complexion, with a strongly 
marked countenance, not unlike the bronze casts of Nai^oleon ; 
and as he stood before his captive horse, with folded arms and 
fixed aspect, he looked more like a statue than a man. 

If the horse, however, manifested the least restiveness, 
Beatte would immediately worry him with the lariat, jerking 
him first on one side, then on the other, so as almost to throw 
him on the ground ; when he had thus rendered him passive, 
he would resume his statue-hke attitude and gaze at him in 

\ silence. 

^ The whole scene was singularly wild; the tall grove, par- 
tially illumined by the flashing fires of the camp, the horses 
tethered here and there among the trees, the carcasses of deer 
hanging around, and in the midst of all, the wild huntsman 
and his wild horse, with an admiring throng of rangers, 
almost as wild. 

In the eagerness of their excitement, several of the young 
rangers sought to get the horse by purchase or barter, and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIF>^. 75 

even offered extravagant terms ; but Beatte declined all their 
offers. " You give great price now ;" said he, " to-morrow you 
be sorry, and take back, and say d — d Inchan !" 

The young men importuned him with questions about the 
mode in which he took the horse, but his answers were dry 
and laconic ; he evidently retained some pique at having been 
undervalued and sneered at by them; and at the same time 
looked down upon them with contempt as greenhorns, httle 
versed in the noble science of woodcraft. 

Afterward, however, when he was seated by our fire, I read- 
ily drew from hun an account of his exploit; for, though 
taciturn among strangers, and little prone to boast of his 
actions, yet his taciturnity, like that of all Indians, had its 
tunes of relaxation. 

He informed me, that on leaving the camp, he had returned 
to the place where we had lost sight of the wild horse. Soon 
getting upon its track, he followed it to the banks of the river. 
Here, the prints being more distinct in the sand, he perceived 
that one of the hoofs was broken and defective, so he gave up 
the pursuit. 

As he was returning to the camp, he came upon a gang of 
six horses, which immediately made for the river. He pur- 
sued them across the stream, left liis rifle on the river bank, 
and putting his horse to fidl speed, soon came up with the 
fugitives. He attempted to noose one of them, but the lariat 
hitched on one of his ears, and he shook it off. The horses 
dashed up a hill, he followed hard at their heels, when, of a 
sudden, he saw their tails whisking in the air, and they 
plunging down a precipice. It was too late to stop. He shut 
his eyes, held m his breath, and went over with them — neck 
or nothing. The descent was between twenty and thirty feet, 
but they aU came down safe upon a sandy bottom. 

He now succeeded in throwing his noose round a fine young 
horse. As he galloped alongside of him, the two horses passed 
each side of a sapling, and the end of the lariat was jerked out 
of his hand. He regained it, but an intervening tree obliged 
him again to let it go. Having once more caught it, and com- 
ing to a more open country, he was enabled to play the young 
horse with the line until he gradually checked and subdued 
him, so as to lead him to the place where he had left Ms rifle. 

He had another formidable difficulty in getting hmi across 
the river, where both horses stuck for a time in the mire, and 
Beatte was nearly unseated from his saddle by the force of the 



76 ^-i TOUR OJM THE PRAIRIE 1 

current ad tlie struggles of his captive. After much toil and 
trouble, however, he got across the tre^m, and brought his 
prize safe into camp. 

For the remainder of the evening, the camp remained in a 
high state of excitement ; nothing was talked of but the cap- 
ture of wild horses ; every youngster of the troop was for this 
harum-scarum kind of chase ; every one promised himself to 
jreturn from the campaign in triumph, bestriding one of these 
wild coursers of the x^rairies. Beatte had suddenly risen to 
great importance ; he was the x)rune hunter, the hero of the 
day. Offers were made liun by the best mounted rangers, 
to let him ride their horses in the chase, provided he would 
give them a share of the spoil. Beatte bore his honors in 
silence, and closed with none of the offers. Our stammering, 
chattering, gasconading httle Frenchman, however, made up 
for his taciturnity, by vaunting as much upon the subject as 
if it were he that had caught the horse. Indeed he held forth 
so learnedly in the matter, and boasted so much of the many 
horses he had taken, that he began to be considered an oracle ; 
and some of the youngsters were inclined to doubt whether he 
were not superior even to the taciturn Beatte. 

The excitement kept the camp awake later than usual. The 
hum of voices, interrupted by occasional peals of laughter, was 
heard from the groups around the various fires, and the night 
was considerably advanced before all had sunk to sleep. 

With the morning dawn the excitement revived, and Beatte 
and his wild horse were again the gaze and talk of the camp. 
The captive had been tied all night to a tree among the other 
horses. He was again led forth by Beatte, by a long halter or 
lariat, and, on his manifesting the least restiveness, was, as 
before, jerked and worried into passive submission. He ap- 
peared to be gentle and docile by nature, and had a beautifully 
mild expression of the eye. In his strange and forlorn situa 
tion, the poor animal seemed to seek protection and companion- 
ship in the very horse which had aided to capture him. 

Seeing him thus gentle and tractable, Beatte, just as we were 
about to march, strapped a light pack upon his back, by way 
of giving him the first lesson in servitude. The native pride 
and independence of the animal took fire at this indignity. 
He reared, and plunged, and kicked, and tried in every way tc 
get rid of the degrading burden. The Indian was too potent 
for him. At every paroxysm he renewed the disciphne of the 
halter, until the poor animal, driven to despair, threw liimseli 



A TOUR ON THE FRAIRIES. 77 

prostrate on the ground, and lay motionless, as if acknowl- 
edging himself vanquished. A stage hero, representing the 
despair of a captive prince, could not have played his part 
more dramatically. There was absolutely a moral grandeur 
in it. 

The imperturbable Beatte folded his arms, and stood for a 
time, looking down in silence upon his captive; until seeing 
him perfectly subdued, he nodded his head slowly, screwed his 
mouth into a sardonic smile of triumph, and, with a jerk of 
the halter, ordered him to rise. He obeyed, and from that 
time forward offered no resistance. During that day he bore 
his pack patiently, and was led by the halter ; but in two days 
he followed voluntarily at large among the supernumerary 
horses of the troop. 

I could not look without compassion upon this fine young 
animal, whose whole course of existence had been so suddenly 
reversed. From being a denizen of these vast pastures, rang- 
ing at will from plain to plain and mead to mead, cropping of 
every herb and flower, and drinking of every stream, he was 
suddenly reduced to perpetual and painful servitude, to pass 
his life under the harness and the curb, amid, perhaps, the din 
and dust and drudgery of cities. The transition in his lot was 
such as sometimes takes place in human affairs, and in the for- 
tunes of towering individuals : — one day, a prince of the prai- 
ries — the next day, a pack-horse ! 



CHAPTER XXI. 

the fording of the red fork. — the dreary forests of the 
"cross timber." — buffalo! 

We left the camp of the wild horse about a quarter before 
eight, and, after steering nearly south for three or four miles, 
arrived on the banks of the Red Fork, about seventy-five 
miles, as we supposed, above its mouth. The river was about 
three hundred yards wide, wandering among sand-bars and 
shoals. Its shores, and the long sandy banks that stretched 
out into the stream, were printed, as usual, with the traces of 
various animals that had come down to cross it, or to drink its 
waters. 



78 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

Here we came to a halt, and there was much consultation 
about the possibility of fording the river with safety, as there 
was an apprehension of quicksands. Beatte, who had been 
somewhat in the rear, came up while we were debating. He 
was mounted on his horse of the half -wild breed, and leading 
his captive by the bridle. He gave the latter in charge to To- 
nish, and without saying a word, urged his horse into the 
stream, and crossed it in safety. Every thing was done by this 
man in a similar way, promptly, resolutely, and silently, with- 
out a previous promise or an after vaunt. 

The troop now followed the lead of Beatte, and reached the 
opposite shore without any mishap, though one of the pack- 
horses wandering a little from the track, came near being 
swallowed up in a quicksand, and was with diflSculty dragged 
to land. 

After crossing the river, we had to force our way, for nearly 
a mile, through a thick canebrake, which, at first sight, ap- 
peared an impervious mass of reeds and brambles. It was a 
hard struggle ; our horses were often to the saddle-girths in 
mire and water, and both horse and horseman harassed and 
torn by bush and brier. Falling, however, upon a buffalo 
track, we at length extricated ourselves from this morass, and 
ascended a ridge of land, where we beheld a beautiful open 
country before us ; while to our right, the belt of forest land, 
called "The Cross Timber," continued stretching away to the 
southward, ,as far as the eye could reach. We soon abandoned 
the open country, and struck into the forest land. It was the 
intention of the Captain to keep on southwest by south, and 
traverse the Cross Timber diagonally, so as to come out upon 
the edge of the great western prairie. By thus maintaining 
something of a southerly direction, he trusted, while he crossed 
the belt of the forest, he would at the same time approach the 
Red River. 

The plan of the Captain was judicious; but he erred from 
not being informed of the nature of the country. Had he 
kept directly west, a couple of days would have carried us 
through the forest land, and we might then have had an easy 
course along the sku-ts of the upper prairies, to Red River ; by 
going diagonally, we were kept for many weary days toUing 
through a dismal series of rugged forests. 

The Cross Timber is about forty miles in breadth, and 
stretches over a rough country of rolling hills, covered with 
scattered tracts of post-oak and black-jack ; with some inter 



A TOUR OK THE PRAIRIES. 79 

vening valleys, which, at proper seasons, would afford good 
pasturage. It is very much cut up by deep ravines, wliich, in 
the rainy seasons, are the beds of temporary streams, tribu- 
tary to the main rivers, and these are called " branches." The 
whole tract may present a pleasant aspect in the fresh time of 
the year, when the ground is covered with herbage ; when the 
trees are in their green leaf, and the glens are enlivened by 
running streams. Unfortunately, we entered it too late in the 
season. The herbage was parched ; the foliage of the scrubby 
forests was withered ; the whole woodland prospect, as far as 
the eye could reach, had a brown and arid hue. The fires 
made on the prairies by the Indian hunters, had frequently 
penetrated these forests, sweeping in light transient flames 
along the dry grass, scorching and calcining the lower twigs 
and branches of the trees, and leaving them black and hard, so 
as to tear the flesh of man and horse that had to scramble 
through them. I shall not easily forget the mortal tofl, and 
the vexations of flesh and spirit, that we underwent occasion- 
ally, in our wanderings through the Cross Timber. It was 
like struggling through forests of cast ii'on. 

After a tedious ride of several nules, we came out upon an 
open tract of hill and dale, interspersed with woodland. Here 
wo were roused by the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! The effect was 
something hke that of the cry of a sail ! a sail ! at sea. It was 
not a false alarm. Three or four of those enormous animals 
were visible to our sight grazing on the slope of a distant hill. 

There was a general movement to set off in pursuit, and 
it was with some difficulty that the vivacity of the younger 
men of the troop could be j-estrained. Leaving orders that 
the line of march should be preserved, the Captain and two 
oi: his oflScers departed at quiet a pace, accompanied by Beatte, 
and by the ever-forward Tonish ; for it was impossible any 
longer to keep the little Frenchman in check, being half crazy 
to prove his skiU and prowess in hunting the Ibuffalo. 

The intervening hiUs soon hid from us both the game and 
the huntsmen. We kept on our course in quest of a camp- 
ing place, which was difficult ;o be found; ahnost aU the 
channels of the streams bein^- dry, and the country being des- 
titute of fountain heads. 

Afte: proceeding some distance, there was again a cry of 
buffalo, and two were pointed out on a hill to the left. The 
Captain being al .ent, it was no longer possible to restrain the 
ardor of the young hunters. Away several of them dashed, 



80 ^ TOUR ON THE PBAIRIES. 

full speed, and soon disappeared among the ravines ; the rest 
kept on, anxious to find a proper place for encampment. 

Indeed we now began to experience the disadvantages of the 
season. The pasturage of the prairies was scanty and parched; 
the pea- vines which grew in the woody bottoms were withered, 
and most of the ' ' branches" or streams were dried up. While 
wandering in this perplexity, we were overtaken by the Cap- 
tain and all his party, except Tonish. They had pm-sued the 
buffalo for some distance without getting within shot, and had 
given up the chase, being fearful of fatiguing their horses, or 
being led off too far from camp. The little Frenchman, how- 
ever, had galloped after them at headlong speed, and the 
last they saw of him, he was engaged, as it were, yard-arm 
and yard-arm, with a great buffalo bull, firing broadsides into 
him. "I tink dat little man crazy — somehow," observed 
Beatte, dryly. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE A.LARM CAMP. 

We now came to a halt, and had to content ourselves with 
an indifferent encampment. It was in a grove of scruboaks, 
on the borders of a deep ravine, at the bottom of which were 
a few scanty pools of water. We were just at the foot of 
a gradually-sloping hiU, covered with half- withered grass, that 
afforded meagre pasturage. In* the spot where we had en- 
camped, the grass was high and parched. The view around us 
was circumscribed and much shut in by gently swelling hills. 

Just as we were encamping, Tonish arrived, all glorious, 
from his hunting match ; his white horse hung all round with 
buffalo meat. According to his own account, he had laid low 
two mighty bulls. As usual, we deducted one half from his 
boastings; but, now that he had something real to vaunt 
about, there was no restraining the valor of his tongue. 

After having in some measure appeased his vanity by boast- 
ing of his exploit, ho informed us that he had observed the 
fresh track of horses, which, from various circumstances, he 
suspected to have been made by some roving band of Pawnees. 
This caused some little uneasiness. The young men who 
had left the line of march in pursuit of the two buffaloes, had 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 81 

not yet rejoined us ; apprehensions were expressed that they 
might be waylaid and attacked. Our veteran hunter, old 
Eyan, also, immediately on our halting to encamp, had gone 
off on foot, in company with a young disciple. ' ' Dat old man 
will have his brains knocked out by de Pawnees yet," said 
Beatte. "He tink he know every ting, but he don't kno v 
Pawnees, anyhow." 

Taking his rifie, the Captain repaired on foot to reconnoitre 
the country from the naked summit of one of the neighbor- 
ing hills. In the meantime, the horses were hobbled and 
turned loose to graze ; and wood was cut, and fires made, to 
prepare the evening's repast. 

Suddenly there was an alarm of fire in the camp ! The flame 
from one of the kindling fires had caught to the tall dry grass ; 
a breeze was blowing ; there was danger that the camp would 
soon be wrapped in a light blaze. " Look to the horses !" cried 
one; "Drag away the baggage !" cried another. "Take care 
of the rifles and powder-horns !" cried a third. All was hurry- 
scurry and uproar. The horses dashed wildly about; some 
of the men snatched away rifles and powder-horns, others 
dragged off saddles and saddle-bags. Meantime, no one 
thought of quelling the fire, nor indeed knew how to quell it. 
Beatte, however, and his comrades attacked it in the Indian 
mode, beating down the edges of the fire with blankets and 
horse-cloths, and endeavoring to prevent its spreading among 
the grass ; the rangers followed their example, and in a little 
while the flames were happily quelled. 

• The fires were now properly kindled on places from which 
the dry grass had been cleared away. The horses were scat- 
tered about a small valley, and on the sloping hill-side, crop- 
ping the scanty herbage. Tonish was preparing a siunptuous 
evening's meal from his buffalo meat, promising us a rich soup 
and a prime piece of roast beef : but we were doomed to ex- 
perience another and more serious alarm. 

There was an indistinct cry from some rangers on the sum- 
mit of the hiU, of which we could only distinguish the words, 
' ' The horses ! the horses ! get in the horses !" 

Immediately a clamor of voices arose ; shouts, inquiries, re- 
plies, were all mingled together, so that nothing could be 
clearly understood, and every one drew his own inference. 

" The Captain has started buffaloes," cried one, " and wants 
horses for the chase." Inunediately a number of rangers 
seized their rifles, and scampered for the hill-top. " The prai- 



32 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

rie is on fire beyond the hill," cried another; **I see the 
smoke— the Captain means we shall drive the horses beyond 
the brook." 

By tliis time a ranger from the hill had reached the skirts of 
the camp. He was almost breathless, Quid could only say that 
the Captain had seen Indians at a distance. 

"Pawnees! Pawnees!" was now the cry among our wild- 
headed youngsters. " Drive the horses iato camp !" cried one. 
"Saddle the horses !" cried another. " Form the hne !" cried a 
third. There was now a scene of clamor and confusion that 
baffles aU description. The rangers were scampering about 
the adjacent field in pursuit of their horses. One might be 
seen tugging his steed along by a halter ; another without a 
hat, riding bare-backed; another driving a hobbled horse be- 
fore him, that made awkward leaps hke a kangaroo. 

The alarm increased. Word was brought from the lower 
end of the camp that there was a band of Pawnees in a neigh- 
boring valley. They had shot old Ryan through the head, and 
were chasing his companion I ' ' No, it was not old Ryan that 
was killed — it was one of the hunters that had been after the 
two buffaloes." " There are three hundred Pawnees just be- 
yond the hill," cried one voice. " More, more !" cried another. 

Our situation, shut in among hills, prevented our seeing to 
any distance, and left us a prey to all these rumors. A cruel 
enemy was supposed to be at hand, and an immediate attack 
apprehended. The horses by this time were driven into the 
camp, and were dashing about among the fires, and tramphng 
upon the baggage. Every one endeavored to prepare for 
action ; but here was the perplexity. During the late alarm of 
fire, the saddles, bridles, rifles, powder-horns, and other equip- 
ments, had been snatched out of their places, and thrown 
helter-skelter among the trees. 

" Where is my saddle?" cried one. " Has any oite seen my 
rifle?" cried another. "Who will lend me a ball?" cried a 
tliird, who was loading his piece. "I have lost my bullet 
pouch." " For God's sake help me to girth this horse!" cried 
another: " he's so restive I can do nothing with him." In his 
hurry and worry, he had put on the saddle the hind part be- 
fore ! 

Some affected to swagger and talk bold ; others said nothing, 
but went on steadily, preparing their horses and weapons, and 
on these I felt the most rehance. Some were evidently excited 
and elated with the idea of an encounter with Indians ; and 



A TOUR ON THE PliAIRIES. 83 

none more so than my young Swiss fellow-traveller, who had a 
passion for wild adventure. Our man, Beattc, led his horses 
in the rear of the camp, placed his rifle against a tree, then 
seated himself by the fire in perfect silence. On the other 
hand, little Tonnish, who Avas busy cooking, stopped every 
moment from his work to play the fanfaron, singing, swear- 
ing, and affecting an unusual hilarity, which made me strong- 
ly' suspect there was some httle fright at bottom, to cause all 
this effervescence. 

About a dozen of the rangers, as soon as they could saddle 
their horses, dashed off in the direction in which the Pawnees 
were said to have attacked the hunters. It was now deter- 
mined, in case our camp should be assailed, to put our horses 
in the ravine in the rear, where they would be out of danger 
from arrow or rifle-ball, and to take our stand within the edge 
of the ravine. This would serve as a trench, and the trees and 
thickets with which it was bordered, would be sufficient to 
turn aside any shaft of the enemy. The Pawnees, besides, are 
wary of attacking any covert of the kind ; their warfare, as I 
have already observed, lies in the open prairie, where, mounted 
upon their fleet horses, they can swoop like hawks upon their 
enemy, or wheel about him and discharge their arrows. Still 
I could not but perceive, that, in case of being attacked by 
such a number of these well-mounted and war-like savages as 
were said to be at hand, we should be exposed to considerable 
risk from the inexperience and want of discipline of our newly 
raised rangers, and from the very courage of many of the 
younger ones who seemed bent on adventure and exploit. 

By tills time the Captain reached the camp, and every one 
crowded round him for information. He informed us, that 
he had proceeded some distance on his reconnoitring expedi- 
tion, and was slowly returning toward the camp, along the 
brow of a naked hill, when he saw something on the edge of a 
parallel hill, that looked like a man. He paused and watched 
it ; but it remained so perfectly motionless, that he supposed it 
a bush, or the top of some tree beyond the hill. He resumed 
his course, when it likewise began to move in a parallel direc- 
tion. Another form now rose beside it, of some one who had 
either been lying down, or had just ascended the other side of 
the hill. The Captain stopped and regarded them ; they like- 
wise stopped. He then lay down upon the grass, and they 
began to walk. On his rising, they again stopped, as if watch- 
ing him. Knowing that the Indians are apt to have their spies 



84 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

find sentinels thus posted on the summit of naked hills, com- 
manding extensive prospects, his doubts were increased by the 
suspicious movements of these men. He now put his foraging 
cap on the end of his rifle, and waved it in the air. They took no 
notice of the signal. He then walked 0^^, until he entered the 
edge of a wood, which concealed him from their view. Stop= 
ping out of sight for a moment, he again looked forth, when 
he saw the two men passing swiftly forward. As the hill on 
which they were walking made a curve toward that on which 
he stood, it seemed as if they were endeavoring to head him 
before he should reach the camp. Doubting whether they 
might not belong to some large party of Indians, either in 
ambush or moving along the valley beyond the liill, the Cap- 
tain hastened his steps homeward, and, descrying some rangers 
on an eminence between him and the camp, he called out to 
them vo pass the word to have the horses driven in, as these 
are generally the first objects of Indian depredation. 

Such was the origin of the alarm which had thrown the 
camp in commotion. Some of those who heard the Captain's 
narration, had no doubt that the men on the hill were Pawnee 
scouts, belonging to the band that had waylaid the hunters. 
iDistant shots were heard at intervals, which were supposed to 
be fired by those who had sallied out to rescue their comrades. 
Several more rangers, having completed their equipments, 
now rode forth in the direction of the firing; others looked 
anxious and uneasy„ 

" If they are as numerous as they are said to be," said one, 
*' and as well mounted as they generally are, we shall be a bad 
match for them with our jaded horses." 

"Well," replied the Captain, "we have a strong encamp- 
ment, and can stand a siege. " 

"Ay, but they may set fire to the prairie ir the night, and 
burn us out of our encampment." 

' ' We will then set up a counter-fire I" 

The word was now passed that a man on horseback ap-^ 
•proached the camp. 

" It is one of the hunters ! It is Clements ! He brings buffalo 
meat !" was announced by several voices as the horseman drew 
near. 

It was, in fact, one of the rangers who had set off in the 
morning in pursuit of the two buffaloes. He rode into the camp, 
with the spoils of the chase hanging round his horse, and fol- 
lowed by liis companions, all sound and unharmed, and equally 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 85 

well laden. They proceeded to give an account of a grand 
gallop they had had after the two buffaloes, and how many 
shots it had cost them to bring one to the ground. 

"Well, but the Pawnees— the Pawnees — ^where are the 
PaAvnees ?" 

" What Pawnees?*' 

"The Pawnees that attacked you." 

"No one attacked us." 

"But have you seen no Indians on your way?" 

" Oh yes, two of us got to the top of a hill to look out for the 
camp, and saw a fellow on an opposite hill cutting queer an- 
tics, who seemed to be an Indian." 

"Pshaw! that was I!" said the Captain. 

Here the bubble burst. The whole alarm had risen from 
this mutual mistake of the Captain and the two rangers. As 
to the report of the three hundred Pawnees and their attack 
on the hunters, it proved to be a wanton fabrication, of which 
no further notice was taken; though the author deserved to 
have been sought out, and severely punished . 

There being no longer any prospect of fighting, every one 
now thought of eating ; and here the stomachs throughout the* 
camp were in unison. Tonish served up to us his promised 
regale of buffalo soup and buffalo beef. The soup was pep- 
pered most horribly, and the roast beef proved the bull to have 
been one of the patriarchs of the prairies ; never did I have to 
deal with a tougher morsel. However, it was our first repast 
on buffalo meat, so we ate it with a lively faith ; nor would our 
little Frenchman allow us any rest, until he had extorted from 
us an acknowledgment of the excellence of his cookery ; though 
the pepper gave us the lie in our throats. 

The night closed in without the return of old Eyan and Ms 
companion. We had become accustomed, however, to the 
aberrations of this old cock of the woods, and no further solici- 
tude was expressed on his account. 

After the fatigues and agitations of the day. the camp soon 
sunk into a profound sleep, excepting those on guard, who were 
more than usually on the alert ; for the traces recently seen 
of Pawnees, and tne certainty that we were in the midst of 
their hunting grounds, excited to constant vigilance. About 
half past ten o'clock we w^ere all startled from sleep by a new 
alarm. A sentinel had fired off his rifle and run into camp, 
crying that there were Indians at hand. 

Every one was on his legs in an instant. Some seized their 



86 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

rifles ; some were about to saddle their horses ; some hastened 
to the Captain's lodge, but were ordered back to their respec- 
tive fires. The sentinel was examined. He declared he had 
seen an Indian approach, crawling along the ground ; where- 
upon he had fired upon him, and run into camp. Th« Cap- 
tain gave it as his opinion, that the supposed Indian was a 
wolf ; he reprimanded the sentinel for deserting his post, and 
obliged him to return to it. Many seemed inclined to give 
credit to the story of the sentinel ; for the events of the day 
had predisposed them to apprehend lurking foes and sudden 
assaults during the darkness of the night. For a long time 
they sat round their fires, with rifle in hand, carrying on low, 
murmuring conversations, and listening for some new alarm. 
Nothing further, however, occurred ; the voices gradually died 
away ; the gossipers nodded and dozed, and sunk to rest ; and, 
by degrees, silence and sleep once more stole over the camp. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



BEAVER DAM. — BUFFALO AND HORSE TRACKS. — A PAWNEE 
TRAIL.— WILD HORSES. — THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE BEAR. 
— CHANGE OF ROUTE. 

On mustering our forces in the morning (October 28d), old 
Eyan and his comrade were still missing ; but the Captain had 
such perfect reliance on the skill and resources of the veteran 
woodsman, that he did not think it necessary to take any 
measures with respect to him. 

Our march this day lay through the same kind of rough 
rolling country ; checkered by brown dreary forests of post- 
oak, and cut up by deep dry ravines. The distant fires were 
evidently increasing on the prairies. The wind had been at 
northwest for several days; and the atmosphere had become 
so smoky, as in the height of Indian summer, that it was diffi- 
cult to distinguish objects at any distance. 

In the course of the morning, we crossed a deep stream with 
a complete beaver dam, above three feet high, making a large 
pond, and doubtless containing several famihes of that indus- 
tiious animal, though not one showed his nose above water. 
The Captain would not permit this amphibious commonwealth 
to be disturbed. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 87 

We were now continually coming upon the tracks of buf- 
faloes and wild horses ; those of the former tended invariably 
to the south, as we could perceive by the direction of the tram- 
pled grass. It was evident we were on the great highway of 
these migratory herds, but that they had chiefly passed to the 
southward. 

Beatte, who generally kept a parallel course several hundred 
yards distant from our line of march, to be on the lookout for 
game, and who regarded every track with the knowing eye 
of an Indian, reported that he had come upon a very suspi- 
cious trail. There were the tracks of men who wore Pawnee 
moccasons. He had scented the smoke of mingled sumach and 
tobacco, such as the Indians use. He had observed tracks of 
horses, mingled with those of a dog ; and a mark in the dust 
where a cord had been trailed along ; probably the long bridle, 
one end of which the Indian horsemen suffer to trail on the 
ground. It was evident, they were not the tracks of wild 
horses. My anxiety began to revive about the safety of our 
veteran hunter Ryan, for I had taken a great fancy to this 
real old Leatherstocking ; every one expressed a confidence, 
however, that wherever Ryan was, he was safe, and knew 
how to take care oi himself. 

We had accomplished the greater part of a weary day's 
march, and were passing through a glade of the oak openings, 
when we came in sight of six wild horses, among which I 
especially noticed two very handsome ones, a gray and a roan. 
They pranced about, with heads erect, and long flaunting tails, 
offering a proud contrast to our poor, spiritless, travel-tired 
steeds. Having reconnoitred us for a moment, they set off 
at a gallop, passed through a woody dingle, and in a little 
while emerged once more to view, trotting up a slope about 
a mile distant. 

The sight of these horses was again a sore trial to the vapor- 
ing Tonish, who had his lariat and forked stick ready, and was 
on the point of launching forth in pursuit, on his jaded horse, 
when he was again ordered back to the pack-horses. After a 
day's journey of fourteen nafles in a southwest du-ection, we 
encamped on the banks of a small clear stream, on the north- 
ern border of the Cross Timber; and on the edge of those 
vast prairies, that extend away to the foot of the Rocky Moun- 
tains. In turning loose the horses to graze, their bells were 
stuffed with grass to prevent their tinkhng, lest it might be 
heard by some wandering horde of Pawnees. 



gg A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

Our hunters now went out in different directions, but with- 
out much success, as but one deer was brought into the camp. 
A young ranger had a long story to tell of his adventures. In 
skirting the thickets of a deep ravine he had wounded a buck, 
which he plainly heard to fall among the bushes. He stopped 
to fix the lock of his rifle, which was out of order, and to reload 
it ; then advancing to the edge of the thicket, in quest of his 
game, he heard a low growling. Putting the branches aside, 
and stealing silently forward, he looked down into the ravine 
and beheld a huge bear dragging the carcass of the deer along 
the dry channel of a brook, and growling and snarling at four 
or five officious wolves, who seemed to have dropped in to take 
supper with him. 

The ranger fired at the bear, but missed him. Bruin main- 
tained his ground and his prize, and seemed disposed to make 
battle. The wolves, too, who were evidently sharp set, drew 
off to but a small distance. As night was coming on, the 
young hunter felt dismayed at the wildness and darkness of 
the place, and the strange company he had fallen in with ; so 
he quietly withdrew, and returned empty handed to the camp, 
where, having told his story, he was heartily bantered by his 
more experienced comrades. 

In the course of the evening, old Ryan came straggling into 
the camp, followed by his disciple, and as usual was received 
with hearty gratulations. He had lost hmiself yesterday, when 
hunting, and camped out all night, but had found our trail in 
the morning, and followed it up. He had passed some time at 
the beaver dam, admiring the skill and solidity with which it 
had been constructed. " These beavers," said he, " are indus- 
trious little fellows. They are the knowingest varment as I 
know; and I warrant the pond was stocked with them." 

"Aye," said the Captain, "I have no doubt most of the 
small rivers we have passed are full of beaver. I would hke 
to come and trap on these waters all winter." 
' " But would you not run the chance of bemg attacked by 
Indians?" asked one of the company. 

"Oh, as to that, it would be safe enough here, in the winter 
time. There would be no Indians here until spring. I should 
want no more than two companions. Three persons are safer 
than a large number for trapping beaver. They can keep 
quiet, and need seldom fire a gun. A bear would serve them 
for food, for two months, taking care to turn every part of it 
to advantage." 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 89 

A consultation was now held as to our future progress. Wc 
had thus far pursued a western course ; and, having traversed 
the Cross Timber, wiere on the skirts of the Grer.t Western 
Prairie. We were still, however, in a very rough country, 
where food was scarce. The season was so far advanced that 
the grass was withered, and the prairies yielded no pasturage. 
The pea-vines of the bottoms, also, T7hich had sustained our 
horses for some part of the journey, were nearly gone, and for 
several days past the poor animals had fallen off wofully both 
in flesh and spirit. The Indian fires on the prairies were 
approaching us from north, and south, and west ; they might 
spread also from the east, and leave a scorched desert between 
us and the frontier, in which our horses might be famished. 

It was determined, therefore, to advance no further to the 
westward, but to shape our course more to the east, so as to 
strike the north fork of the Canadian, as soon as possible, Avhere 
we hoped to find abundance of young cane, which, at this sea- 
son of the year, affords the most nutritious pasturage for the 
horses ; and, at the same time, attracts immense quantities of 
game. Here then we fixed the limits of our tour to the Far 
West, being within little more than a day's march of the boun- 
dary line of Texas. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



SCARCITY OP BREAD.— RENCONTRE WITH BUFFALOES.— WILD TUR- 
KEYS.— FALL OP A BUFFALO BULL. 

The morning broke bright and clear, but the camp had noth^ 
ing of its usual gayety. The concert of the farmyard was at 
an end ; not a cock crew, nor dog barked ; nor was there either 
singing or laughing ; every one pursued his avocations quietly 
and gravely. Tlie novelty of the expedition was wearing off. 
Some of the young men were getting as way-worn as their 
horses ; and most of them, unaccustomed to the hunter's fife, 
began to repine at its privations. What they most felt was 
the want of bread, their rations of flour having been exhausted 
for several days. The old hunters, who had often experienced 
this want, made light of it; and Beatte, accustomed when 
among the Indians to live for months without it, considered It 
a mere article of luxury. *' Bread," he would say scornfully, 
*' is onlv fit for a child." 



90 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

About a quarter before eight o'clock, we turned our backs 
upon the Far West, and set off in a southeast course, along a 
gentle valley. After riding a few miles, Beatte, who kept 
parallel with us, along the ridge of a naked hill to our right, 
called out and made signals, as if something were coming 
round the hill to intercept us. Some who were near me cried 
out that it was a party of Pawnees. A skirt of thickets hid 
the approach of the supposed enemy from our view. We 
heard a trampling among the brushwood. My horse looked 
toward the place, snorted and pricked up his ears, when pres- 
ently a couple of large buffalo bulls, who had been alarmed by 
Beatte, came crashing through the brake, and making directly 
toward us. At sight of us they wheeled round, and scuttled 
along a narrow defile of the hill. In an instant half a score 
of rifles cracked off ; there was a universal whoop and halloo, 
and away went half the troop, helter-skelter in pursuit, and 
myself among the number. The most of us soon pulled up, 
and gave over a chase which led through birch and brier, and 
break-neck ravines. Some few of the rangers persisted for 
a time ; but eventually joined the line, slowly lagging one 
after another. One of them returned on foot; he had been 
thrown while in full chase ; his rifle had been broken in the 
fall, and his horse, retaining the spirit of the rider, had kept 
on after the buffalo. It was a melancholy predicament to be 
reduced to; without horse or weapon in the midst of the 
Pawnee hunting grounds. 

For my own part, I had been fortunate enough recently, by 
a further exchange, to get possession of the best horse in the 
troop; a full-blooded sorrel of excellent bottom, beautiful 
form, and most generous qualities. 

In such a situation it almost seems as if a man changes his 
nature with his horse. I felt quite like another being, now 
that I had an animal under me, spirited yet gentle, docile to 
a remarkable degree, and easy, elastic, and rapid in all his 
movements. In a few days he became almost as much at- 
tached to me as a dog ; would follow me when I dismounted, 
would come to me in the morning to be noticed and caressed ; 
and would put his muzzle between me and my book, as I sat 
reading at the foot of a tree. The feeling I had for this my 
dumb companion of the prairies, gave me some faint idea of 
that attachment the Arab is said to entertain for the horse 
that has borne him about the deserts. 

After riding a few miles further, we came to a fine meadow 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 91 

with a broad clear stream winding through it, on the banks of 
which there was excellent pasturage. Here we at once came 
to a halt, in a beautiful grove of elms, on the site of an old 
Osage encampment. Scarcely had we dismounted, when a 
universal firing of rifles took place upon a large flock of tur- 
keys, scattered about the grove, wliich proved to be a favorite 
roosting-place for these simple birds. They flew to the trees, 
and sat perched upon their branches, stretching out their long 
necks, and gazing in stupid astonishment, until eighteen of 
them were shot down. 

In the height of the carnage, word was brought that there 
were four buffaloes in a neighboring meadow. The turkeys 
were now abandoned for nobler game. The tired horses were 
again mounted, and urged to the chase. In a little while we 
came in sight of the buffaloes, looking like brown hillocks 
among the long green herbage. Beatte endeavored to get 
ahead of them and turn them towards us, that the inexperi- 
enced hunters might have a chance. They ran round the base 
of a rocky hill, that hid us from the sight. Some of us en- 
deavored to cut across the hill, but became entrapped in a 
thick wood, matted with grape-vines. My horse, who, under 
his former rider, had hunted the buffalo, seemed as much 
excited as myself, and endeavored to force his way through 
the bushes. At length we extricated ourselves, and galloping 
over the hill, I found our little Frenchman, Tonish, curvetting 
on horseback round a great buffalo which he had wounded too 
severely to fly, and which he was keeping employed until we 
should come up. There was a mixture of the grand and the 
comic, in beholding this tremendous animal and his fantastic 
assaflant. The buffalo stood with his shaggy front always 
presented to his foe ; his mouth open, his tongue parched, his 
eyes like coals of fire, and his tail erect with rage ; every now 
and then he would make a faint rush upon his foe, who easily 
evaded his attack, capering and cutting all kinds of antics 
before him. 

We now made repeated shots at the buffalo, but they 
glanced into his mountain of flesh without proving mortal. 
He made a slow and grand retreat into the shallow river, 
turning upon his assailants whenever they pressed upon him ; 
and when in the water, took his stand there as if prepared to 
sustain a siege. A rifle-ball, however, more fatally lodged, 
sent a tremor through his frame. He turned and attempted 
to wade across the stream, but after tottering a few paces, 



92 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

slowly fell upon his side and expired. It.was the fall of a hero, 
and we lelt somewhat ashamed of the butchery that had 
eftected it ; but, after the first shot or two, we had reconciled 
it to our feelings, by the old plea of putting the poor animal 
out of his misery. 

Two other buffaloes were killed this evening, but they were 
all bulls, the flesh of which is meagre and hard, at this season 
of the year. A fat buck yielded us more savory meat for our 
evening's repast. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

RINGING THE WILD HORSE. 

We left the buffalo camp about eight o'clock, and had a 
toilsome and harassing march of two hours, over ridges of 
hills, covered with a ragged meagre forest of scrub-oaks, and 
broken by deep gullies. Among the oaks I observed many of 
the most diminutive size; some not above a foot high, yet 
bearing abundance of small acorns. The whole of the Cross 
Timber, in fact, abounds with mast. There is a pine-oak which 
produces an acorn pleasant to the taste, and ripening early in 
the season. 

About ten o'clock in the morning, we came to where this line 
of rugged hills swept down into a valley, through which flowed 
the north fork of the Red River. A beautiful meadow about 
half a mile wide, enamelled with yellow autumnal flowers, 
stretched for two or three miles along the foot of the hills, 
bordered on the opposite side by the river, whose banks were 
fringed with cotton wood trees, the bright foliage of which re- 
freshed and delighted the eye, after being wearied by the con' 
templation of monotonous wastes of brown forest. 

The meadow was finely diversified by groves and clumps of 
ti'ees, so happily dispersed, that they seemed as if set out by 
the hand of art. As we cast our eyes over this fresh and de- 
lightful valley, we beheld a troop of wild horses, quietly graz- 
ing on a green lawn, about a mile distant to our right, while to 
our left, at nearly the same distance, were several buffaloes ; 
some feeding, others reposing and ruminating among the high 
rich herbage, under the shade of a clump of cottonwood trees. 
The whole had the appearance of a broad beautiful tract of 
pasture land, on the highly ornamented estate of some gentle- 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 93 

man tarmer, with his cattle grazing about the lawns and mea- 
dows. 

A council of war was now held, and it was determined to 
profit by the present favorable opportunity, and try our hand 
at the grand hunting manoeuvre, which is called ringing the 
wild horse. This requires a large party of horsemen, well 
mounted. They extend themselves in each direction, singly, 
at certain distances apart, and gradually form a ring of two or 
three miles in cu'cumf erence, so as to surround the game. This 
has to be done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the 
most readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and can scent a 
hunter at a great distance, if to windward. 

The ring being formed, two or three ride toward the horses, 
who start off in an opposite direction. Whenever they ap- 
proach the bounds of the ring, however, a huntsman presents 
himself and turns them from their course. In this way, they 
are checked and driven back at every point ; and kept gallop 
ing round and round tliis magic circle, until, being completely 
tired down, it is easy for the hunters to ride up beside them, 
and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses of 
most speed, courage, and bottom, however, are apt to break 
through and escape, so that, in general, it is the second-rate 
horses that are taken. 

Preparations were now made for a hunt of the kind. The 
pack-horses were taken into the woods and firmly tied to trees, 
lest, in a rush of the wild horses, they should break away with 
them. Twenty-five men were then sent under the command 
of a lieutenant, to steal along the edge of the valley within the 
strip of wood that skirted the hills. They were to station 
themselves about fifty yards apart, within the edge of the 
woods, and not advance or show themselves until the horses 
dashed in that direction. Twenty -five men were sent across 
the valley, to steal in hke manner along the river bank that 
bordered the opposite side, and to station themselves among 
the trees. A third party, of about the same number, was to 
form a line, stretching across the lower part of the valley, so 
as to connect the two wings. Beatte and our other half-breed, 
Antoine, together with the ever-officious Tonish, were to make 
a circuit through the woods so as to get to the upper part of 
the valley, in the rear of the horses, and to drive them forward 
into the kind of sack that we had formed, while the two wings 
should join behind them and make a complete circle. 

The flanking parties were quietly extending themselves, out 



94 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

of sight, on each side of the v alley, and the residue were 
stretching themselves, like the links of a chain, across it, when 
the wild horses gave signs that they scented an enemy ; snuf- 
fing the air, snorting, and looking about. At length they 
pranced off slowly toward the river, and disappeared behind a 
green bank. Here, had the regulations of the chase been ob- 
served, they would have been quietly checlved and turned back 
by the advance of a hunter from among the trees ; unluckily, 
however, we had our wild-fire Jack-o'-lantern little Frenchman 
to deal with. Instead of keeping quietly up the right side of 
the valley, to get above the horses, the moment he saw them 
move toward the river, he broke out of the covert of woods,. 
and dashed furiously across the plain in pursuit of them, being 
mounted on one of the led horses belonging to the Count. This 
put an end to all system. The half-breeds and half a score of 
rangers joined in the chase. Away they all went over the 
green bank ; in a moment or two the wild horses reappeared, 
and came thundering down the valley, with Frenchman, half- 
breeds, and rangers galloping and yelling like devils behind 
them. It was in vain that the line drawn across the valley at- 
tempted to check and turn back the fugitives. They wei-e too 
hotly pressed by their pursuers; in their panic they dashed 
through the line, and clattered down the plain. The whole 
troop joined in the headlong chase, some of the rangers with- 
out hats or caps, their hair flying about their ears, others with 
handkerchiefs tied round their heads. The buffaloes, Avho had 
been calmly ruminating among the herbage, heaved up their 
huge forms, gazed for a moment with astonishment at the 
tempest that came scouring down the meadow, then turned 
and took to heavy-rolling flight. They were soon overtaken ; 
the promiscuous throng were pressed together by the contract- 
ing sides of the valley, and away they went, pell-mell, hurry- 
scurry, wild buffalo, wild horse, wild huntsman, with clang 
and clatter, and whoop and halloo, that made the forests ring. 
At length the buffaloes turned into a green brake on the 
river bank, while the horses dashed up a narrow defile of the 
hiUs, with their pursuers close at their heels. Beatte passed 
several of them, having fixed his eye upon a fine Pawnee horse, 
that had his ears slit, and saddle-marks upon his back. He 
pressed him gallantly, but lost him in the woods. Among the 
wild horses was a fine black mare, far gone with foal. In 
scrambling up the defile, she tripped and fell. A young ranger 
sprang from his horse, and seized her by the mane and muzzle. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 9{i 

Another ranger dismounted, and came to his assistance. The 
mare struggled fiercely, kicking and biting, and striking with 
her fore feet, but a noose was shpped over her head, and her 
struggles were in vain. It was some time, however, before 
she gave over rearing and plunging, and lashing out with her 
feet on every side. The two rangers then led her along the 
valley by two long lariats, which enabled them to keep at a 
sufficient distance on each side to be out of the reach of her 
hoofs, and whenever she struck out in one direction, she was 
jerked in the other. In this way her spirit was gradually sub- 
dued. 

As to little Scaramouch Tonish, who had marred the whole 
scene by his precipitancy, he had been more successful than he 
deserved, having managed to catch a beautiful cream-colored 
colt, about seven months old, which had not strength to keep 
up with its companions. The mercurial little Frenchman was 
beside himself with exultation. It was amusing to see him 
with his prize. The colt would rear and kick, and struggle to 
get free, when Tonish would take him about the neck, a\ restle 
with him, jump on his back, and cut as many antics as a mon- 
key with a kitten. Nothing surprised me more, however, than 
to witness how soon these poor animals, thus taken from the 
unbounded freedom of the prairie, yielded to the dominion of 
man. In the course of two or three days the mare and colt 
went with the led horses, and became quite docile. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

FORDING OF THE NORTH FORK.— DREARY SCENERY OF THE CROSS 
TIMBER. — SCAMPER OF HORSES IN THE NIGHT.— OSAGE WAR 
PARTY. — EFFECTS OF A PEACE HARANGUE.— BUFFALO. — WILD 
HORSE. 

Resuming our march, we forded the North Fork, a rapid 
stream, and of a purity seldom to be found in the rivers of the 
prairies. It evidently had its sources in high land, well sup- 
plied with springs. After crossing the river, we again as- 
cended among hills, from one of which we had an extensive 
view over this belt of cross timber, and a cheerless prospect it 
was ; hill beyOnd hill, forest beyond forest, all of one sad rus- 
set hue— excepting that here and there a line of green cotton- 



96 A TOUR ON THE PRAIR4ES. 

wood trees, sycamores, and willows, marked the course of 
some streamlet through a valley. A procession of buffaloes, 
moving slowly up the profile of one of those distant hills, 
formed a characteristic object in the savage scene. To the 
left, the eye stretched beyond this rugged wilderness of hills, 
and ravines, and ragged forests, to a prairie about ten miles 
off, extending in a clear blue line along the horizon. It was 
like looking from among rocks and breakers upon a distant 
tract of tranquil ocean. Unluckily, our route did not lie in 
that direction ; we still had to traverse many a weary mile of 
the "cross timber." 

We encamped toward evening in a valley, beside a scanty 
pool, under a scattered grove of elms, the upper branches of 
which were fringed with tufts of the mystic mistletoe. In the 
course of the night, the wild colt whinnied repeatedly; and 
about two hours before day, there was a sudden stampedo, or 
rush of horses, along the purlieus of the camp, with a snorting 
and neighing, and clattering of hoofs, that startled most of the 
rangers from their sleep, who listened in silence, until the 
sound died away like the rushing of a blast. As usual, the 
noise was at first attributed to some party of marauding In- 
dians, but as the day dawned, a couple of wild horses were 
seen in a neighboring meadow, which scoured off on being 
approached. It was now supposed that a gang of them had 
dashed through our camp in the night. A general mustering 
of our horses took place, many were found scattered to a con- 
siderable distance, and several were not to be found. The 
prints of their hoofs, however, appeared deeply dinted in the 
soil, leading off at full speed into the waste, and their owners, 
putting themselves on the trail, set off in weary search of 
them. 

We had a ruddy daybreak, but the morning gathered up 
gray and lowering, with indications of an autumnal storm. 
We resumed our march silently and seriously, through a 
rough and cheerless country, from the highest points of which 
we could descry large prairies, stretching indefinitely west- 
ward. After travelling for two or three hours, as we were tra- 
versing a withered prairie, resembhng a great brown heath, 
we beheld seven Osage warriors approaching at a distance. 
The sight of any human being in this lonely wilderness was 
interesting ; it was hke speaking a ship at sea. One of the In- 
dians took the lead of his companions, and advanced toward 
us with head erect, chest thrown forward, and a free and noble 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 97 

mien. He was a fine-looking fellow, dressed in scarlet frock 
and fringed leggings of deer skin. His head was decorated 
with a white tuft, and he stepped forward with something of a 
martial air, swaying his bow and arrows in one hand. 

We held some conversation with him through our inter- 
preter, Beatte, and found that he and his companions had been 
with the main part of their tribe hunting the buffalo, and 
had met with great success ; and he informed us, that in the 
course of another day's march, we would reach the prairies on 
the banks of the Grand Canadian, and find plenty of game. 
He added, that as their hunt was over, and the hunters on 
their return homeward, he and his comrades had set out on a 
war party, to w^aylay and hover about some Pawnee camp, in 
hopes of carrying off scalps or horses. 

By this time his companions, who at first stood aloof, joined 
him. Three of them had indifferent fowling-pieces; the rest 
were armed with bows and arrows. I could not but admire 
the finely shaped heads and busts of these savages, and their 
gi'aceful attitudes and expressive gestures, as they stood con- 
versing with our interpreter, and surrounded by a cavalcade 
of rangers. We endeavored to get one of them to join us, as 
we were desirous of seeing him hunt the buffalo with Ms bow 
and arrow. He seemed at first inclined to do so, but was dis- 
suaded by his companions. 

The worthy Commissioner now remembered his mission as 
pacificator, and made a speech, exhorting them to abstain 
from all offensive acts against the Pawnees ; informing them 
of the plan of their father at Washington, to put an end to all 
war among his red children ; and assuring them that he was 
sent to the frontier to establish a universal peace. He told 
them, therefore, to return quietly to their homes, with the cer- 
tainty that the Pawnees would no longer molest them, but 
would soon regard them as bi-others. 

The Indians listened to the speech with their customary 
silence and decorum; after which, exchanging a few words 
among themselves, they bade us farewell, and pursued their 
way across the prairie. 

Fancying that I saw a lurking smile in the countenance of 
our interpreter, Beatte, I privately inquired what the Indians 
had said to each other after hearing the speech. The leader, 
he said, had observed to his companions, that, as their great 
father intended so soon to put an end to aU warfare, it be- 
hooved them to make the most of the little time that w^as left 



98 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

them. So they had departed, with redoubled zeal, to pursue 
their project of horse-stealing ! 

We had not long parted from the Indians before we dis 
covered three buffaloes among the thickets of a marshy valley 
to our left. I set off with the Captain and several rangers, in 
pursuit of them. Stealing through a straggling grove, the 
Captain, who took the lead, got within rifle-shot, and wounded 
one of them in the flank. They all three made of in headlong 
panic, through thickets and brushwood, and swamp and mire, 
bearing down every obstacle by their immense weight. The 
Captain and rangers soon gave up a chase which threatened 
to knock up their horses; I had got upon the traces of tho 
wounded bull, however, and was in hopes of getting near 
enough to use my pistols, the only weapons with which I was 
provided ; but before I could effect it, he reached the foot of a 
rocky hill, covered with post-oak and brambles, and plunged 
forward, dashing and crashing along, with neck or nothing 
fury, where it would have been madness to have followed 
huxi. 

The chase had led me so far on one side, that it was some 
time before I regained the trail of our troop. As I was slowly 
ascending a hfll, a fine black mare came prancing round the 
summit, and was close to me oefore she was aware. At sight 
of me she started back, then turning, swept at full speed down 
into the valley, and up the opposite hill, with flowing mane 
and tail, and action free as air. I gazed after her as long as 
she was in sight, and breathed a wish that so glorious an 
animal might never come under the degrading thraldom of 
whip and curb, but remain a free rover of the prairies. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

FOUL WEATHER ENCAMPMENT. — ANECDOTES OF BEAR HUNTING. — 
INDIAN NOTIONS ABOUT OMENS. — SCRUPLES RESPECTING THE 
DEAD. 

On overtaking the troop, I found it encamping in a rich 
bottom of woodland, traversed by a small stream, running 
between deep crumbling banks. A sharp cracking Oi^ of rifles 
was kept up for some time in various directions, upon a nu- 
merous flock of turkeys, scampering among the thickets, or 



A TO I'll ON THE PRATRIES. 99 

perched upon the trees. We had not been long at a halt, 
when a drizzHng rain ushered in the autumnal storm that 
had been brcwmg. " Preparations were immediately made to 
weather it ; our tent was pitched, and our saddles, saddlebags, 
packages of coffee, sugar, salt, and every thing else that could 
be damaged by the rain, were gathered under its shelter. Our 
men, Beatte, Tonish, and Antoine, drove stakes with forked 
ends into the ground, laid poles across them for rafters, and 
thus made a shed or pent-house, covered with bark and skins, 
sloping toward the Avind, and open toward the fire. The ran- 
gers formed similar shelters of bark and skins, or of blankets 
stretched on poles, supported by forked stakes, with great fires 
in front. 

These precautions were well timed. The rain set in sullenly 
and steadily, and kept on, with slight intermissions, for two 
days. The brook which flowed peacefully on our arrival, 
swelled into a turbid and boiling torrent, and the forest be- 
came little better than a mere swamp. The men gathered 
under their shelters of skins and blankets, or sat cowering 
round their fires ; while columns of smoke curling up among 
the trees, and diffusing themselves in the air, spread a blue 
haze through the woodland. Our poor, way-worn horses^, 
reduced by weary travel and scanty pasturage, lost all re- 
maining spirit, and stood, with drooping heads, flagging ears, 
and half-closed eyes, dozing and steaming in the rain, while 
the yellow autumnal leaves, at every shaking of the breeze, 
came wavering down around them. 

Notwithstanding the bad weather, however, our hunters 
were not idle, but during the intervals of the rain, sallied forth 
on horseback to prowl through the woodland. Every now 
and then the sharp report of a distant rifle boded the death of 
a deer. Venison in abundance was brought in. Soine busied 
themselves under the sheds, flaying and cutting up the car- 
casses, or round the fires with spits and camp kettles, and 
a rude kind of feasting, or rather gormandizing, prevailed 
throughout the camp. The axe was continually at work, 
and wearied the forest with its echoes. Crash ! some mi.a:hty 
tree would come down; in a few minutes its limbs woidd be 
blazing and crackling on the huge camp fires, with some 
luckless deer roasting before it, that had once sported beneath 
its shade. 

The change of weather had taken sharp hold of our little 
Frenchman. His meagre frame^ composed of bones and whip- 



XOO A TOUR ON TUB PRAIRIES. 

cord, was racked with rheumatic pains and twinges. He had 
the toothache — the earache— his face was tied up— he had 
shooting pains in every hmb ; yet all seemed but to increase 
his restless activity, and he was in an incessant fidget about 
the fire, roasting, and stewing, and groaning, and scolding, 
and swearing. 

Our man Beatte returned grim and mortified, from hunting. 
He had come upon a bear of formidable dimensions, and 
wounded him Avith a rifle-shot. The bear took to the brook, 
which was swollen and rapid. Beatte dashed in after him and 
assailed him in the rear with his hunting-knife. At every 
blow the bear turned furiously upon him, with a terrific dis- 
play of Avhite teeth. Beatte, having a foothold in the brook, 
was enabled to push him off with his rifle, and, when he 
turned to swim, would flounder after, and attempt to ham- 
string him. The bear, however, succeeded in scrambling off 
among the thickets, and Beatte had to give up the chase. 

This adventure, if it produced no game, brought up at least 
several anecdotes, round the evening fire, relative to bear 
hunting, in which the grizzly bear figured conspicuously. 
This powerful and ferocious animal is a favorite theme of 
hunter's story, both among red and white men; and his 
enormous claws are worn round the neck of an Indian brave 
as a trophy more honorable than a human scalp. He is now 
scarcely seen below the upper prairies and the skirts of the 
Eocky Mountains. Other bears are formidable when wounded 
and provoked, but seldom make battle when allowed to escape. 
The grizzly bear alone, of all the animals of our Western 
wilds, is prone to unprovoked hostility. His prodigious size 
and strength make him a formidable opponent ; and his great 
tenacity of life often baffles the skill of the hunter, notv/lth- 
standing repeated shots of the rifle, and wounds of the huntmg- 
knife. 

One of the anecdotes related on this occasion, gave a picture 
of the accidents and hard shifts to which our frontier rovers 
are inured. A hunter, while in pursuit of a deer, feU into one 
of those deep funnel-shaped pits, formed on the prairies by the 
settling of the waters after heavy rains, and known by the 
name of sink-holes. To his great horror, he came in contact, 
at the bottom, with a huge grizzly bear. The monster grap- 
pled him ; a deadly contest ensued, in which the poor hunter 
was severely torn and bitten, and had a leg and an arm 
broken, but succeeded in kiihng his rugged foe. For several 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 101 

days he remained at the bottom of the pit, too much crippled 
to move, and subsisting on the raw flesh of the bear, during 
which time he kept his wounds open, that they might heal 
gradually and effectually. He was at length enabled to 
scramble to the top of the pit, and so out upon the open 
prairie. With great difficulty he crawled to a ravine, formed 
by a stream, then nearly dry. Here he took a delicious 
draught of water, which infused new life into hmi; then 
dragging himself along from pool to pool, he supported him- 
self by small fish and frogs. 

One day he saw a wolf hunt down and kill a deer in the 
neighboring prairie. He immediately crawled forth from the 
ravine, drove off the wolf, and, lying down beside the carcass 
of the deer, remained there until he made several hearty 
meals, by which his strength was much recruited. 

Eeturning to the ravine, he pursued the course of the brook, 
until it gi'ew to be a considerable stream. Down this he 
floated, until he came to where it emptied into the Mississippi. 
Just at the mouth of the stream, he found a forked tree, which 
he launched with some difficulty, and, getting astride of it, 
committed himself to the current of the mighty river. In this 
way he floated along, until he arrived opposite the fort at 
Council Bluffs. Fortunately he arrived there in the daytime, 
otherwise he might have floated, unnoticed, past this solitary 
post, and perished in the idle waste of waters. Being descried 
from the for.t, a canoe was sent to his relief, and he Avas 
brought to shore more dead than alive, where he soon re- 
covered from his wounds, but remained maimed for life. 

Our man Beatte had come out of his contest with the bear 
very much worsted and discomfited. His drenching in the 
brook, together with the recent change of weather, had 
brought on rheumatic pains in his hmbs, to which he is 
subject. Though ordinarily a fellow of undaunted sj)irit, 
and above all hardship, yet he now sat down by the fire, 
gloomy and dejected, and for once gave way to repining. 
Though in the prime of life, and of a robust frame, and appa- 
rently iron constitution, yet, by his own account, he was little 
better than a mere wreck. He was, in fact, a living monu- 
ment of the hardships of wild frontier fife. Baring liis left 
arm, he showed it warped and contracted by a former attack 
of rheumatism ; a malady with which the Indians are often 
afflicted ; for their exposure to the vicissitudes of the elements 
does not produce that perfect hardihood and insensibility to 



]02 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

the changes of the seasons that many are apt to imagine. He 
bore the scars of various maims and bruises ; some received in 
hunting, some in Indian warfare. His right arm had been 
broken by a fall from his horse ; at another time his steed had 
fallen with him, and crushed his left leg. 

*' I am all broke to pieces and good for nothing," said he; "I 
no care now what happen to me any more." "However," 
arldud he, after a moment's pause, ''for all that, it would take 
a pretty strong man to put me down, anyhow. " 

I drew from him various particulars concerning himself, 
which served to raise him in my estimation. His residence 
w^as on the Neosho, in an Osage hamlet or neighborhood, 
under the superintendence of a worthy missionary from the 
banks of the Hudson, by the name of Requa, who was endea- 
voring to instruct the savages in the art of agriculture, and to 
make husbandmen and herdsmen of them. I had visited this 
agricultural mission of Requa in the course of my recent tour 
along the frontier, and had considered it more likely to pro- 
duce solid advantages to the poor Indians than any of the 
mere praying and pi'eaching missions along the border. 

In this neighborhood, Pierre Beatte had his little farm, his 
Indian wife, and his half-breed children ; and aided Mr. Requa 
in his endeavors to civilize the habits, and meliorate the con- 
dition of the Osage tribe. Beatte had been brought up a 
Catholic, and was inflexible in his religious faith ; he could not 
pray with Mr. Requa, he said, but he could work with him, 
and he evinced a zeal for the good of his savage relations and 
neighbors. Indeed, though his father had been French, and 
he himself had been brought up in communion with the 
whites, he evidently was more of an Indian in his tastes, and 
his heart yearned toward his mother's nation. When he 
talked to me of the wrongs and insults that the poor Indians 
suffered in their intercourse with the rough settlers on the 
frontiers; when he described the precarious and degraded 
state of the Osage tribe, diminished m numbers, broken in 
spirit, and almost living on sufferance in the land where they 
once figiu-ed so heroically, I could see his veins swell, and his 
nostrils distend with indignation ; but he would check the feel- 
ing with a strong exertion of Indian self-command, and, in a 
manner, drive it back into his bosom. 

He did not hesitate to relate an instance wherein he had 
joined his kindred Osages, in pursuing and avenging them- 
selves on a party of white men who had committed a flagrant 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 103 

outrage upon them ; and I found, in the encounter that took 
place, Beatte had shown himself the complete Indian. 

He had more than once accomx)anied his Osage relations in 
their wars with the Pawnees, and related a skirmish wliich 
took place on the borders of these very hunting grounds, in 
which several Pa^vnees were killed. We should pass near the 
place, he said, in the course of our tour, and the unburied 
bones and skulls of the slain were still to be seen there. The 
surgeon of the troop, who was present at our conversation, 
pricked up his ears at this intelligince. He was something of 
a phrenologist, and offered Beatte a handsome reward if he 
would procure him one of the skulls. 

Beatte regarded him for a moment with a look of stern sur- 
prise. 

"No !" said he at length, " dat too bad ! I have heart strong 
enough — I no care kill, but let the dead alone P^ 

He added, that once in travellmg with a party of white men, 
he had slept in the same tent with a doctor, and found that he 
had a Pawnee skull among his baggage : he at once renounced 
the doctor's tent, and his fellowship. " He try to coax me," 
said Beatte, "but I say no, we must part— I no keep such 
company." 

In the temporary depression of his spirits, Beatte gave way 
to those superstitious forebodings to which Indians are prone. 
He had sat for some time, with his cheek upon his hand, 
gazing into the fire. I found his thoughts were wandering 
back to his humble home, on the banks of the Neosho ; he was 
sure, he said, that he should find some one of his family ill, or 
dead, on his return: his left eye had twitched and twinkled 
for two days past; an omen which always boded some misfor- 
tune of the kind. 

Such are the trivial circumstances which, when magnified 
into omens, will shake the souls of these men of iron. The 
least sign of mystic and sinister portent is sufficient to turn a 
hunter or a warrior from his course, or to fill his mmd with 
apprehensions of impending evil. It is this superstitious pro- 
pensity, common to the sohtary and savage rovers of the 
wilderness, that gives such powerful influence to the prophet 
and the dreamer. 

The Osages, with whom Beatte had passed much of his life, 
retain these superstitious fancies and rites in much of their 
original force. They all believe in the existence of the soul 
after its separation from the body, and that it carries with it 



X04 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIBIES. 

all its mortal tastes and habitudes. At an Osage village in the 
neighborhood of Beatte, one of the chief warriors lost an only- 
child, a beautiful girl, of a very tender age. All her playthings 
were buried with her. Her favorite little horse, also, was 
killed, and laid in the grave beside her, that she might have it 
to ride in the land of spirits. 

I will here add a little story, which I picked up in the course 
of my tour through Beatte's country, and which illustrates the 
superstitions of iiis Osr.ge kindred. A large party of Osages 
had been encamped for some time on the borders of a fine 
stream, called the Nickanansa. Among them was a young 
hunter, one of the bravest and most graceful of the tribe, who 
was to be married to an Osage girl, who, for her beauty, was 
called the Flower of the Prairies. The young hunter left her 
for a time among her relatives in the encampment, and went 
to St. Louis, to dispose of the products of his hunting, and 
purchase ornaments for his bride. After an absence of some 
weeks, he returned to the banks of the Nickanansa, but the 
camp was no longer there ; and the bare frames of the lodges 
and the brands of extinguished fires alone marked the place. 
At a distance he beheld a female seated, as if weeping, by the 
side of the stream. It was his affianced bride. He ran to em- 
brace her, but she turned mournfully away. He dreaded lest 
some evil had befallen the camp. 

" Where are our people?" cried he. 

" They are gone to the banks of the Wagrushka." 

" And what art thou doing here alone?" 

' ' Waiting for thee. " 

" Then let us hasten to join our people on the banks of the 
Wagrushka." 

He gave her his pack to carry, and walked ahead, according 
to the Indian custom. 

They came to where the smoke of the distant camp was seen 
rising from the woody margin of the stream. The girl seated 
herself at the foot of a tree. " It is not proper for us to return 
together," said she; " I will wait here." 

The young hunter proceeded to the camp alone, and was re- 
ceived by his relations with gloomy countenances. 

"What evil has happened," said he, "that ye are all so 
sad?" 

No one replied. 

He turned to his favorite sister, and bade her go forth, seek 
his bride, and conduct her to the camp. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 105 

" Alas !" cried she, "how shall I seek her? She died a few 
days since." 

The relations of the young girl now surrounded him, weep- 
ing and wailing; but he refused to believe the dismal tidings. 
"But a few moments since," cried he, "I left her alone and in 
health; come with me, and I will conduct you to her." 

He led the way to the tree where she had seated herself, but 
she was no longer there, and his pack lay on the ground. The 
fatal truth struck him to the heart ; he fell to the ground dead. 

I give this simple story almost in the words in which it was 
related to me, as I lay by the fire in an evening encampment 
on the banks of the haunted stream where it is said to have 
happened. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A SECRET EXPEDITION. — DEER BLEATING. — MAGIC BALLS. 

On the following morning we were rejoined by the rangers 
who had remained at the last encampment, to seek for the 
stray horses. They had tracked them for a considerable dis- 
tance through bush and brake, and across streams, until they 
found them cropping the herbage on the edge of a prairie. 
Their heads were in the direction of the fort, and they were 
evidently grazing their way homeward, heedless of the un- 
bounded freedom of the prairie so suddenly laid open to them. 

About noon the weather held up, and I observed a mysteri- 
ous consultation going on between our half-breeds and Tonish ; 
it ended in a request that we would dispense with the services 
of the latter for a few hours, and permit him to join his com- 
rades in a grand foray. We objected that Tonish was too 
much disabled by aches and pains for such an undertaking ; 
but he was wild with eagerness for the mysterious enterprise, 
and, when permission was given him, seemed to forget all liis 
ailments in an instant. 

In a short time the trio were equipped and on horseback ; 
with rifles on their shoulders and handkerchiefs twisted round 
their heads, evidently bound for a grand scamper. As they 
passed by the different lodges of the camp, the vainglorious 
little Frenchman could not help boasting to the right and left 
of the great things he was about to achieve ; though the taci- 
turn Beatte, who rode in advance, would every now and then 



106 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

check his horse, and look back at him with an air of stern re^ 
buke. It was hard, however, to make the loquacious Tonish 
play "Indian." 

Several of the hunters, likewise, salhed forth, and the prime 
old woodman, Ryan, came back early in the afternoon, with 
ample spoil, having kiUed a buck and two fat does. I drew 
near to a group of rangers that had gathered round liim as he 
stood by the spoil, and found they v/ere discussing the merits 
of a stratagem sometimes used in deer hunting. This consists 
in imitating, with a small instrument called a bleat, the cry of 
the fawn, so as to lure the doe within reach of the rifle. There 
are bleats of various kinds, suited to calm or windy weather, 
and to the age of the fawn. The poor animal, deluded by 
them, in its anxiety about its young, will sometimes advance 
close up to the hunter. " I once bleated a doe," said a young 
hunter, ' ' until it came within twenty yards of me, and pre- 
sented a sure mark. I levelled my rifle three times, but had 
not the heart to shoot, for the poor doe looked so wistfully, 
that it in a manner made my heart yearn. I thought of my 
own mother, and how anxious she used to be about me when I 
was a child ; so to put an end to the matter, I gave a halloo, 
and started the doe out of rifle-shot in a moment." 

' ' And you did right, " cried honest old Eyan. ' ' For my part, 
I never could bring myself to bleating deer. I've been with 
hunters who had bleats, and have made them throw them 
away. It is a rascally trick to take advantage of a mother's 
love for her young." 

Toward evening our three worthies returned from their 
mysterious foray. The tongue of Tonish gave notice of their 
approach long before they came in sight ; for he was vocifer- 
ating at the top of his lungs, and rousing the attention of the 
whole camp. The lagging gait and reeking flanks of their 
horses, gave evidence of hard riding ; and, on nearer approach, 
we found them hung round with meat like a butcher's sham- 
bles. In fact, they had been scouring an inunense prairie that 
extended beyond the forest, and which was covered with herds 
of buffalo. Of this prairie, and the animals upon it, Beatte 
had received intelligence a few days before, in his conversation 
with the Osages, but had kept the information a secret from 
the rangers, that he and his comrades might have the first dash 
at the game. They had contented themselves with killing* four ; 
though, if Tonish might be believed, they might have slain 
them by scores. 



A TOUR ON THE PUAllilES. 1(J7 

These tidings, and the buffalo meat brought home in evi- 
dence, spread exultation through the camp, and every one 
looked forward with joy to a buffalo hunt on the prairies. 
Tonish was again the oracle of the camp, and held forth by the 
hour to a knot of hsteners, crouched round the fire, with their 
shoulders up to their ears. He was now more boastful than 
ever oi his skill as a marksman. All his want of success in the 
early part of our march he attributed to being "out of luck," 
if not "spell-bound;" and finding himself listened to with ap- 
parent credulity, gave an instance of the kind, which he de- 
clared had hapi^ened to himself, but which was evidently a 
tale picked up among his relations, the Osages. 

According to this account, when about fourteen years of age, 
as he was one day hunting, he saw a white deer come out from 
a ravine. Crawling near to get a shot, he beheld another and 
another come forth, until there were seven, all as white as 
snow. Having crept sufficiently near, he singled one out and 
fired, but without effect ; the deer remained unf rightened. He 
loaded and fired again and missed. Thus he continued firing 
and missing until all his ammunition was expended, and the 
deer remained v/ithout a wound. He returned home despair- 
ing of his skill as a marksman, but was consoled by an old 
Osage hunter. These white deer, said he, have a charmed hfe, 
and can only be killed by bidlets of a particular kind. 

The old Indian cast several balls for Tonish, but would not 
suffer him to be present on the occasion, nor inform him of the 
ingi'cdic.its and mystic ceremonials. 

Provided with these balls, 'Sonish again set out in quest of 
the white deer, and succeeded in finding them. He tried at 
first with ordinary balls, but missed as before. A magic ball, 
however, immediately brought a fine buck to the ground. 
Whereupon the rest of the herd immediately disappeared and 
were never seen again. 

October 29th.— The morning opened gloomy and lowering; 
but toward eight o'clock the sun struggled forth and lighted 
up the forest, and the notes of the bugle gave signal to pre- 
pare for marcliing. Now^ began a scene of bustle, and clamor, 
and gayety. Some were scampering and brawling after 
their horses, some were riding in bare-backed, and driving 
in the horses of their comrades. Some w^ere stripping the 
poles of the wet blankets that had served for shelters ; others 
packing up with all possible dispatch, and loading the bag- 
gage horses as they arrived, while others were cracking off 



103 ^ TOUR ON THE PEAIKIES. 

their damp rifles and charging them afresh, to be ready for 
the sport. 

About ten o'clock, we began our march. I loitered in the 
rear of the troop as it forded the turbid brook, and defiled 
through the labyrinths of the forest. I always felt disposed to 
linger until the last straggler disappeared among the trees and 
the distant note of the bugle died upon the ear, that I might 
behold the wilderness relapsing into silence and solitude. In 
the present instance, the deserted scene of our late bustling en- 
campment had a forlorn and desolate appearance. The sur- 
rounding forest had been in many places trampled into a quag- 
mire. Trees felled and partly hewn in pieces, and scattered in 
huge fragments ; tent-poles stripped of their covering ; smoul- 
dering fires, with great morsels of roasted venison and buffalo 
meat, standing in wooden spits before them, hacked and 
slashed by the knives of hungry hunters ; while around were 
strewed the hides, the horns, the antlers, and bones of buffa- 
loes and deer, with uncooked joints, and unplucked turkeys, 
left behind with that reckless improvidence and wastefulness 
which young hunters are apt to indulge when in a neighbor- 
hood where game abounds. In the meantime a score or two 
of turkey-buzzards, or vultures, wore already on the wing, 
wheeling their magnificent flight high in the air, and preparing 
for a descent upon the camp as soon as it should be abandoned. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE GRAND PRAIRIE. — A BUFFALO HUNT. 

After proceeding about two hours in a southerly direction, 
we emerged toward mid-day from the dreary belt of the Cross 
Timber, and to our infinite deUght beheld "the great Prairie" 
stretching to the right and left before us. We could distinctly 
trace the meandering course of the main Canadian, and various 
smaller streams, by the strips of green forest that bordered 
them. The landscape was vast and beautiful. There is always 
an expansion of feeling in looking upon these boundless and 
fertile wastes ; but I was doubly conscious of it after emerging 
from our "close dungeon of innumerous boughs." 

From a rising ground Beatte pointed out the place where he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 109 

and his comrades had killed the buffaloes ; and we beheld sev- 
eral black objects moving in the distance, which he said were 
part of the herd. The Captain determmed to shape his course 
to a woody bottom about a mile distant, and to encamp there 
for a day or two, by way of having a regular buffalo hunt, and 
ge?;ting a supply of provisions. As the troop defiled along the 
slooe of the hill toward the camping ground, Beatte proposed 
to my messmates and myself, that we should put ourselves 
under his guidance, promising to take us where we should 
have plenty of sport. Leaving the line of march, there- 
foi-e, we diverged toward the prairie ; traversing a small val- 
ley, and ascending a gentle swell of land. As we reached 
the summit, we beheld a gang of wild horses about a mile off. 
Bea^tte was inmiediately on the alert, and no longer thought of 
butfalo hunting. He was mounted on his powerful half -wild 
horse, with a lariat coiled at the saddle-bow, and set off in pur- 
smc ; while we remained on a rising ground watching his ma- 
noeuvres with great solicitude. Taking advantage of a strip of 
woodland, he stole quietly along, so as to get close to them be- 
fore he was perceived. The moment they caught sight of him 
a grand scamper took place. We watched him skirting along 
the horizon like a privateer in full chase of a merchantman ; 
at length he passed over the brow of a ridge, and down into a 
shallow valley ; in a few moments he was on the opposite hill, 
and close upon one of the horses. He was soon head and head, 
and appeared to be trying to noose his prey ; but they both dis- 
appeared again below the hill, and we saw no more of them. 
It turned out afterward that he had noosed a powerful horse, 
but could not hold him, and had lost his lariat in the attempt. 

While we were waiting for his return, we perceived two 
buffalo bulls descending a slope, toward a stream, Avhich 
wound through a ravine fringed witli trees. The young Count 
and myself endeavored to get near them under covert of the 
trees. They discovered us while we were yet three or four 
hundred yards off, and turning about, retreated up the rising 
ground. We urged our horses across the ravine, and gave 
chase. The immense weight of head and shoulders causes the 
buffalo to labor heavily up hill ; but it accelerates his descent. 
We had the advantage, therefore, and gained rapidly upon the 
fugitives, though it was difficult to get our horses to approach 
fchem, their very scent inspiring them with terror. The Count, 
who had a double-barrelled gun loaded with ball, fired, but it 
missed. The bulls now altered their course, and galloped down 



110 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

hill with headlong rapidity. As they ran in different direc- 
tions, we each singled out one and separated. I was provided 
with a brace of veteran brass-barrelled pistols, which I had 
borrowed at Fort Gibson, and which had evidently seen some 
service. Pistols are very effective in buffalo hunting, as the 
hunter can ride up close to the animal, and fire at it while at 
full speed ; whereas the long heavy rifles used on the frontier, 
cannot be easily managed, nor discharged with accurate aim 
from horseback. My object, therefore, was to get within 
pistol shot of the buffalo. This was no very easy matter. I 
was w^ell mounted on a horse of excellent speed and bottom, 
that seemed eager for the chase, and soon overtook the game ; 
but the moment he came nearly parallel, he woukl keep sheer- 
ing off, with ears forked and pricked forward, and every 
symptom of aversion and alarm. It was no wonder. Of all 
animals, a buffalo, when close pressed by the hunter, has an 
aspect the most diabolical. His two short black horns, curve 
out of a huge frontier of shaggy hair ; his eyes glow like coals ; 
his mouth is open, his tongue parched and drawn up into a 
half crescent ; his tail is erect, and tufted and whisking about 
in the air, he is a perfect picture of mingled rage and terror. 

It was with difficulty I urged my horse sufficiently near, 
when, taking aim, to my chagrin, both pistols missed fire. 
Unfortunately the locks of these veteran weapons were so 
much worn, that in the gallop, the priming had been shaken 
out of the pans. At the snapping of the last pistol I was close 
upon the buffalo, when, in his despair, he turned round with a 
sudden snort and rushed upon me. My horse wheeled about 
as if on a pivot, made a convulsive spring, and, as I had been 
leaning on one side with pistol extended, I came near being 
thrown at the feet of the buffalo. 

Three or four bounds of the horse carried us out of the reach 
of the enemy; who, having merely turned in desperate self- 
defence, quickly resumed his flight. As soon as I could gather 
in my panic-stricken horse, and prime the pistols afresh, I 
again spurred in pursuit of the buffalo, who had slackened his 
speed to take breath. On my approach he again set off full 
tilt, heaving himself forward with a heavy rolling gallop, dash- 
ing with headlong precipitation through brakes and ravines, 
while several deer and wolves, startled from their coverts by 
his thundering career, ran helter-skelter to right and left across 
the waste. 

A gallop across the prairies in pursuit of game is by no 



A TOUR oir Tun rr.AiEiEs. lU 

means so smooth a career as those may imagine, who have 
only the idea of an open level plain. It is true, the prairies of 
the hunting ground are not so much entangled with flowering 
plants and long herbage as the lower i)rairies, and are princi- 
pally covered with short bufl'alo grass; but they are diversi- 
fied by hill and dale, and where most level, are apt to be cut 
up by deep rifts and ravines, made by torrents after rains; 
and which, yawning from an even surface, are almost like 
pitfalls in the way of the hunter, checking him suddenly, when 
in full career, or subjecting him to the risk of limb and life. 
The plains, too, are beset by burrowing holes of small animals, 
in which the horse is apt to sink to the fetlock, and throw both 
himself and his rider. The late rain had covered some parts 
of the prairie, where the ground was hard, with a thin sheet 
of water, through which the horse had to splash his way. In 
other parts there were innumerable shallow hoUows, eight or 
ten feet in diameter, made by the buffaloes, who waUow in 
sand and mud like swine. These being filled with water, 
shone like mirrors, so that the horse was continually leaping 
over them or springing on one side. We had reached, too, a 
rough part of the prairie, very much broken and cut up ; the 
buffalo, who was running for hfe, took no heed to his course, 
plungmg down break-neck ravines, where it was necessary to 
skirt the borders in search of a safer descent. At length we 
came to where a winter stream had torn a deep chasm across 
the whole prairie, leaving open jagged rocks, and forming a 
long glen bordered by steep crumbling cliffs of mingled stone 
and clay. Down one of these the buffalo flung himself, half 
tumbling, half leaping, and then scuttled along the bottom; 
while I, seeing all further pursuit useless, pulled up, and 
gazed quietly after him from the border of the cliff, until he 
disappeared amidst the windings of the ravine. 

Nothing now remained but to turn my steed and rejoin my 
companions. Here at first was some httle difficulty. The 
ardor of the chase had betrayed me into a long, heedless gallop. 
I now found myself in the midst of a lonely waste, in which 
the prospect was bounded by undulating swells of land, naked 
and uniform, where, from the deficiency of landmarks and 
distinct features, an inexperienced man may become be- 
wildered, and lose his way as readily as in the Tvastes of the 
ocean. The day, too, was overcast, so that I could not guide 
myself by the sun: my only mode was to retrace the track 
my horse had made' in coming, though this I would often 



112 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

lose sight of, where the ground was covered with parched 
herbage. 

To one unaccustomed to it, there is something inexpressibly- 
lonely in the solitude of a prairie. The loneliness of a forest 
seems nothing to it. There the view is shut in by trees, and 
the imagination is left free to picture some livelier scene be- 
yond. But here we have an innnense extent of landscape 
without a sign of human existence. We have the conscious- 
ness of being far, far beyond the bounds of human habita- 
tation ; we feel as if moving in the midst of a desert world. 
As my horse lagged slowly back over the scenes of our late 
scamper, and the delirium of the chase had passed away, I 
was peculiarly sensible to these circumstances. The silence of 
the waste was now and then broken by the cry of a distant 
flock of pelicans, stalking like spectres about a shallow pool ; 
sometimes by the sinister croaking of a raven in the air, while 
occasionally a scoundrel wolf would scour off from before me : 
and, having attained a safe distance, would sit down and howl 
and whine with tones that gave a dreariness to the surround- 
ing solitude. 

After pursuing my way for some time, I descried a horseman 
on the edge of a distant hill, and soon recognized him to be the 
Count. He had been equally unsuccessful with myself; we 
were shortly after rejoined by our worthy comrade, the Vir- 
tuoso, who, with spectacles on nose, had made two or three 
ineffectual shots from horseback. 

We determined not to seek the camp until we had made 
one more effort. Casting our eyes about the surrounding 
waste, we descried a herd of buffalo about two miles dis- 
tant, scattered apart, and quietly grazing near a small strip 
of trees and bushes. It required but little stretch of fancy 
to picture them so many cattle grazing on the edge of a 
common, and that the grove might shelter some lowly farm- 
house. 

We now formed our plan to circumvent the herd, and by 
getting on the other side of them, to hunt them in the direction 
where we knew our camp to be situated : otherwise the pursuit 
might take us to such a distance as to render it impossible to 
find our way back before nightfall. Taking a wide circuit, 
therefore, we moved slowly and cautiously, pausing occa- 
sionally, when we saw any of the herd desist from grazing. 
The wind fortunately set from them, otherwise they might 
have scented us and have taken the alarm. In this way we 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 113 

succeeded in getting round the herd without disturbing it. 
It consisted of about forty head, bulls, cows, and calves. 
Separating to some distance from each other, we now ap- 
proached slowly in a parallel line, hoping by degrees to steal 
near without exciting attention. They began, hoAvever, to 
move off quietly, stopping at every step or two to graze, when 
suddenly a bull that, unobserved by us, had been taking his 
siesta under a clump of trees to our left, roused himself from 
liis lair, and hastened to join his companions. We were still 
at a considerable distance, but the game had taken the alarm. 
We quickened our pace, they broke into a gallop, and now 
commenced a full chase. 

As the ground was level, they shouldered along with great 
speed, following each other in a Une ; two or three bulls bring- 
ing up the rear, the last of whom, from his enormous size and 
venerable frontlet, and beard of sunburnt hair, looked like the 
patriarch of the herd ; and as if he might long have reigned 
the monarch of the prairie. 

There is a mixture of the awful and the comic in the look of 
these huge animals, as they bear their great bulk forward, 
with an up and down motion of the unwieldy head and 
shoulders ; their tail cocked up like the queue of Pantaloon in 
a pantomime, the end whisking about in a fierce yet whimsical 
style, and their eyes glaring venomously with an expression 
of fright and fury. 

For some time I kept parallel with the line, without being 
able to force my horse within pistol shot, so nmch had he been 
alarmed by the assault of the buffalo m the preceding chase. 
At length I succeeded, but was again balked by my pistols 
missing fire. My companions, whose horses were less fleet, 
and more way-worn, could not overtake the herd ; at length 
Mr. L,, who was in the rear of the line, and losing ground, 
levelled his double-barrelled gun, and fired a long raking shot. 
It struck a buffalo just above the loins, broke its back-bone, 
and brought it to the ground. He stopped and alighted to 
dispatch his prey, when borrowing his gun, which had yet a 
charge remaining in it, I put my horse to his speed, again over- 
took the herd wliich was thundering along, pursued by the 
Count. With my present weapon there was no need of urging 
my horse to such close quarters; galloping along parallel, 
therefore, I singled out a buffalo, and by a fortunate shot 
brought it down on the spot. The ball had struck a vital part ; 
it could not move from the place w^here it fell, but lay there 



114 A TO mi ON THE PRAIRIES. 

struggling in mortal agony, while the rest of the herd kept on 
their headlong career across the prairie. 

Dismounting, I now fettered my horse to prevent his stray- 
ing, and advanced to contemplate my victim. I am nothing of 
a sportsman ; I had been prompted to this unwonted exploit by 
the magnitude of the game, and the excitement of an adven- 
turous chase. Now that the excitement was over, I could not 
but look with commiseration upon the poor animal that lay 
struggling and bleeding at my feet. His very size and impor- 
tance, which had before inspired me with eagerness, now 
increased my compunction. It seemed as if I had inflicted 
pain in proportion to the bulk of my victim, and as if it were 
a hundred-fold greater waste of life than there would have 
been in the destruction of an animal of inferior size. 

To add to these after-qualms of conscience, the poor animal 
lingered in his agony. He had evidently received a mortal 
wound, but death might be long in coming. It would not do 
to leave him here to be torn piecemeal, while yet alive, by the 
wolves that had already snuffed his blood, and were skulking 
and howling at a distance, and waiting for my departure ; and 
by the ravens that were flapping about, croaking dismally in 
the air. It became now an act of mercy to give him his 
quietus, and put him out of his misery. I primed one of the 
pistols, therefore, and advanced close up to the buffalo. To 
inflict a wound thus in cold blood, I found a totally different 
thing from firing in the heat of the chase. Taking aim, how- 
ever, just behind the ford-shoulder, my pistol for once proved 
true; the ball must have passed through the heart, for the 
animal gave one convulsive throe and expired. 

While I stood meditating and moralizing over the wreck I 
had so wantonly produced, with my horse grazing near me, I 
was rejoined by my fellow-sportsman, the Virtuoso; who, 
being a man of universal adroitness, and withal, more experi- 
enced and hardened in the gentle art of ' ' venerie, " soon man- 
aged to caiwe out the tongue of the buffalo, and delivered it to 
me to bear back to the camp as a trophy. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. Hg 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A COMRADE LOST. — A SEARCH FOR THE CAMP. — THE COMMISSIONER, 
THE WILD HORSE, AND THE BUFFALO. — A WOLF SERENADE. 

Our solicitude was now awakened for the young Count. 
With his usual eagerness and impetuosity he had persisted in 
urging his jaded horse in pursuit of the herd, unwilling to 
return without having likewise killed a buffalo. In this way 
he had kept on following them, hither and thither, and 
occasionally firing an ineffectual shot, until by degrees horse- 
man and herd became indistinct in the distance, and at leng-th 
swelling ground and strips of trees and thickets hid them 
entirely from sight. 

By the time my friend, the amateur, joined me, the young 
Count had been long lost to view. We held a consultation on 
the matter. Evening was drawing on. Were we to pursue 
him, it would be dark before we should overtake him, grant- 
ing we did not entirely lose trace of him in the gloom. We 
should then be too much bewildered to find our way back to 
the encampment; even now, our return would be difficult. 
We determined, therefore, to hasten to the camp as speedily 
as possible, and send out our half-breeds, and some of the 
veteran hunters, skilled in cruising about the prairies, to 
search for our companion. 

We accordingly set forward in what we supposed to be the 
direction of the camp. Our weary horses could hardly be 
urged beyond a walk. The twilight thickened upon us; the 
landscape grew gradually indistinct ; we tried in vain to recog- 
nize various landmarks which we had noted in the morning. 
The features of the prairies are so sunilar as to baffle the eye 
of any but an Indian, or a practised woodman. At length 
night closed in. We hoped to see the distant glare of camp- 
fires: Ave listened to catch the sound of the bells about the 
necks of the grazing horses. Once or twice we thought we 
distinguished, them; we Avere mistaken. Nothing was to be 
heard but a monotonous concert of insects, with now and 
then the dismal howl of wolves mingling with the night breeze. 
We began to think of halting for the night, and bivouacking 
under the lee of some tliickot. We had implements to strike a 



110 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES 

light ; there was plenty of firewood at hand, and the tongues 
of our buffaloes would mrnish us with a repast. 

Just as we were preparing to dismount, we heard the report 
of a rifle, and shortly after, the notes of the bugle, caUing up 
the night guard. Pushing forward in that direction, the camp 
fires soon broke on our sight, gleaming at a distance from 
among the thick groves of an alluvial bottom. 

As we entered the camp, we found it a scene of rude hun- 
ters' revelry and wassail. There had been a grand day's 
sport, in which all had taken a part. Eight buffaloes had been 
killed; roaring fires were blazing on every side; all hands 
were feasting upon roasted joints, broiled marrow-bones, and 
the juicy hump, far-famed among the epicures of the prairies 
Right glad were we to dismount and partake of the sturdy 
cheer, for we had been on our weary horses since morning 
without tasting food. 

As to our worthy friend, the Commissioner, with whom we 
had parted company at the outset of this eventful day, we 
found him lying in a corner of the tent, much the worse for 
wear, in the course of a successful hunting match. 

It seems that our man, Beatte, in his zeal to giv^*; the Com- 
missioner an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and grati- 
fying his hunting propensities, had mounted him upon his 
half -wild horse, and started him in pursuit of a huge buffalo 
bull, that had already been frightened by the imnters. The 
horse, which was fearless as his owner, and, iike him, had a 
considerable spice of devil in his compobition, and who, 
besides, had been made familiar with the game, no sooner 
came in sight and scent of the buffalo, than he set off full 
speed, bearing the involuntary hunter hither and thither, and 
whither he would not — up hill and down hill — ^leaping pools 
and brooks — dashing through glens and gullies, until he came 
up with the game. Instead of sheering off, he crowded upon 
the buffalo. The Commissioner, almost in self-defence, dis- 
charged both barrels of a double-barrelled gun into the enemy. 
The broadside took effect, but was not mortal. The buffalo 
turned furiously upon his pursuer ; the horse, as he had been 
taught by his owner, wheeled off. The buffalo plunged after 
him. The worthy Commissioner, in great extremity, drew 
his sole pistol from his holster, fired it off as a stern-chaser, 
shot the buffalo full in the breast, and brought him lumbering 
forward to the earth. 

The Commissioner returned to camp, lauded on all sides for 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRTES. 117 

his signal exploit ; but grievously battered and way-worn. He 
had been a hard rider perforce, and a victor in spite of himself. 
He turned a deaf ear to all compliments and congratulations; 
had but little stomach for the hunter's fare placed before him, 
and soon retreated to stretch his limbs in the tent, declaring 
that nothing should tempt him again to mount that half devil 
Indian horse, and that he had had enough of buffalo hunting 
for the rest of his life. 

It was too dark now to send any one in search of the young 
Count. Guns, however, were fired, and the bugles sounded 
from time to time, to guide him to the camp, if by chance he 
should straggle within hearing ; but the night advanced with- 
out his making his appearance. There was not a star visible 
to giiide him, and we concluded that wherever he was, he 
would give up wandering in the dark, and bivouac until day- 
break. 

It was a raw, overcast night. The carcasses of the buffaloes 
killed in the vicinity of the camp had drawn about it an un- 
usual number of wolves, who kept up the most forlorn concert 
of whining yells, prolonged into dismal cadences and inflex- 
ions, literally converting the surrounding waste into a howling 
wilderness. Nothing is more melancholy than the midnight 
howl of a wolf on a prairie. What rendered the gloom and 
wildness of the night and the savage concert of the neighbor- 
ing waste the more dreary to us, was the idea of the lonely and 
exposed situation of our young and inexperienced comrade. 
AVe trusted, however, that on the return of daylight, he would 
find his way back to the camp, and then all the events of the 
night would be remembered only as so many savory gratifica- 
tions of his passion for adventure. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

A HUNT FOR A LOST COMRADE. 

The morning dawned, and an hour or two passed without 
any tidings of the Count. We began to feel uneasiness lest, 
having no compass to aid him, he might perplex himself and 
wander in some opposite direction. Stragglers are thus often 
lost for days; what made us the more anxious about him was, 



118 A TOUB OJV THE FHAIKIES. 

that he had no provisions with him, was totally unvei'sed in 
"woodcraft," and liable to fall into the hands of some lurking 
or straggling party of savages. 

As soon as our people, therefore, had made their breakfast, 
we beat \\\) for volunteers for a cruise in search of the Count. 
A dozen of the rangers, mounted on some of the best and 
freshest horses, and armed with rifles, were soon ready to 
start ; our half-breeds Beatte and Antoine also, with our little 
mongrel Frenchman, were zealous in the cause; so Mr. L. and 
myself taking the lead, to show the way to the scene of our 
little hunt where we had parted company with the Count, we 
all set out across the prairie. A ride of a couple of miles 
brought us to the carcasses of the two buffaloes we had kOled. 
A legion of ravenous wolves were already gorging upon 
them. At our approach they reluctantly drew off, skulking 
with a caitiff look to the distance of a few hundred yards, and 
there awaiting our departure, that they might return to their 
banquet. 

I condi*.icted Beatte and Antoine to the spot whence the 
young Count had continued the chase alone. It was like 
putting hounds upon the scent. They immediately distin- 
guished the track of his horse amidst the trampings of the 
buffaloes, and set off at a round pace, following with the eye 
in nearly a straight course, for upward of a mile, when they 
came to where the herd had divided, and run hither and 
thither about a meadow. Here the track of the horse's hoofs 
wandered and doubled and often crossed each other ; our half- 
breeds were like hounds at fault. While we were at a halt, 
waiting until they should unravel the maze, Beatte suddenly 
gave a short Indian whoop, or rather yelp, and pointed to a 
distant hill. On regarding it attentively, we perceived a 
horseman on the summit. "It is the Count!" cried Beatte, 
and set off at full gallop, followed by the whole company,, 
In a few moments he checked his horse. Another figure on 
horseback had appeared on the brow of the hill. This com- 
pletely altered the case. • The Count had wandered off alone ; 
no other person had been missing from the camp. If one of 
these horsemen were indeed the Count, the other must be an 
Indian. If an Indian, in all probability a Pawnee. Perhaps 
they were both Indians ; scouts of some party lurking in the 
vicinity. While these and other suggestions were hastily dis- 
cussed, the two horsemen glided down from the profile of the 
hill, and we lost sight of them. One of the rangers suggested 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 119 

that there might be a straggling party of Pawnees behind 
the hill, and that the Count might have fallen into their 
hands. The idea had an electric effect upon the little troop. 
In an instant every horse was at full speed, the half-breeds 
leading the way ; the young rangers as they rode set up wild 
yelps of exultation at the thoughts of having a brush with the 
Indians. A neck or nothing gallop brought us to the skirts of 
the hill, and revealed our mistake. In a ravine we found the 
two horsemen standing by the carcass of a buffalo which they 
had killed. They proved to be two rangers, who, unperceived, 
had left the camp a httle before us, and had come here in a 
direct line, while we had made a wide circuit about the 
prairie. 

This episode being at an end, and the sudden excitement 
being over, we slowly and coolly retraced our steps to the 
meadow; but it was some time before our half-breeds could 
again get on the track of the Count. Having at length found 
it, they succeeded in following it through all its doublings, 
until they came to where it was no longer mingled with the 
tramp of buffaloes, but became single and separate, wandering 
here and there about the prairies, but always tending in a 
direction opposite to that of the camp. Here the Count had 
evidently given up the pursuit of the herd, and had endeav- 
ored to nnd his way to the encamximent, but had become 
bewildered as the evening shades thickened around him, and 
had completely mistaken the points of the compass. 

In aU this quest our half-breeds displayed that quickness of 
eye, in following up a track, for which Indians are so noted. 
Beatte, especially, was as staunch as a veteran hound. Some- 
times he would keep forward on an easy trot ; his eyes fixed on 
the ground a little ahead of his horse, clearly distinguishing 
prints m the herbage which to me were invisible, excepting 
on the closest inspection. Sometimes he would pull up and 
walk his horse slowly, regarding the ground intensely, where 
to my eye nothing was apparent. Then he would dismount, 
lead his horse by the bridle, and advance cautiously step by 
step, with his face bent towards the earth, just catching, here 
and there, a casual indication of the vaguest kind to guide 
him onward. In some places where the soil was hard and the 
grass withered, he would lose the track entirely, and wander 
backward and forward, and right and left, in search of it; 
returning occasionally to the place where he had lost sight of 
it, to take a new departure. If this failed he would examine 



120 A TOUll ON THE rUAIPJES. 

the banks of the neighboring streams, or the sandy bottoms of 
the ravines, in hopes of finding tracks where the Count had 
crossed. When he again came upon the track, he woukl 
tomount his horse, and resume his onward course. At length, 
after crossing a stream, in the crumbhng banks of which the 
hoofs of the horse were deeply dented, we came upon a high 
dry prairie, where our half-breeds were completely baffled. 
Not a foot-print was to be discerned, though they searched in 
every direction; and Beatte, at length coming to a pause, 
shook his head despondingly. 

Just then a small herd of deer, roused from a neighboring 
ravine, came bounding by us. Beatte sprang from his horse, 
levelled his rifie, and wounded one slightly, but without bring- 
ing it to the ground. The report of the rifle was almost 
immediately followed by a long halloo from a distance. We 
looked around, but coidd see nothing. Another long halloo 
was heard, and at length a horseman was descried, emerging 
out of a skirt of forest. A single glance showed him to be the 
young Count ; there was a universal shout and scamper, every 
one setting off full gallop to greet him. It was a joyful meet- 
ing to both parties; for, much anxiety had been felt by us 
all on account of his youth and inexperience, and for his part, 
with all his love of adventure, he seemed right glad to be once 
more among his friends. 

As we supposed, he had couipletely mistaken his course on 
the preceding evening, and had wandered about until dark, 
when he thought of bivouacking. The night was cold, yet he 
feared to make a fire, lest it might betray him to some lurking 
party of Indians. Hobbling his horse with his pocket hand- 
kerchief, and leaving him to graze on the margin of the prairie, 
he clambered into a tree, fixed his saddle in the fork of the 
branches, and placing himself securely with his back against 
the trunk, prepared to pass a dreary and anxious night, 
regaled occasionally with the bowlings of the wolves. He was 
agreeably disappointed. The fatigue of the day soon brought 
on a sound sleep ; he had delightful dreams about his home in 
Switzerland, nor did he wake until it was broad daylight. 

He then descended from liis roosting-place, mounted his 
horse, and rode to the naked summit of a hill, whence he be- 
held a trackless wilderness around him, but^ at no great dis- 
tance, the Grand Canadian, winding its way between borders 
of forest land. The sight of this river consoled him with the 
idea that, should he fail in finding his way back to the camp, 



i TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 121 

or in being found by some party of his comrades, he might 
follow the course of the stream, which could not fail to conduct 
him to some frontier post, or Indian hamlet. So closed the 
events of our hap-hazard buffalo hunt. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A REPUBLIC OF PRAIRIE DOGS. 

On returning from our expedition in quest of the young 
Count, I learned that a burrow, or village, as it is termed, of 
prairie dogs had been discovered on the level summit of a 
hill, about a mile from the camp. Having heard much of the 
habits and peculiarities of these little animals, I determined to 
pay a visit to the community. The prairie dog is, in fact, one 
of the curiosities of the Far West, about which travellers de- 
light to tell marvellous tales, endowing him at times with 
something of the politic and social habits of a rational being, 
and giving him systems of civil governraent and domestic 
economy, almost equal to what they used to bestow upon the 
beaver. 

The prairie dog is an animal of the coney kind, and about 
the size of a rabbit. He is of a sprightly mercurial nature; 
quick, sensitive, and somewhat petulant. He is very grega- 
rious, hving in large communities, sometimes of several acres 
in extent, where innumerable little heaps of earth show the 
entrances to the subterranean cells of the inhabitants, and 
the well beaten tracks, like lanes and streets, show their mo- 
bility and restlessness. According to the accounts given of 
them, they would seem to be continuaUy full of sport, business, 
and public affairs ; whisking about hither and thither, as if on 
gossiping visits to each other's houses, or congregating in the 
cool of the evening, or after a shower, and gambolling together 
in the open air. Sometimes, especially when the moon shines, 
they pass half the night in revelry, barking or yelping with 
short, quick, yet weak tones, like those of very young puppies. 
While in the height of their playfulness and clamor, however, 
should there be the least alarm, they all vanish into their cells 
in an instant, and the village remains blank and silent. In 
case they are hard pressed by their pursuers, without any 



122 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

hope of escape, they will assume a pugnacious air, and a most 
whimsical look of impotent wrath and defiance. 

The prairie dogs are not permitted to remain sole and undis- 
turbed inhabitants of their own homes. Owls and rattlesnakes 
are said to take up their abodes with them; but whether as 
invited guests or unwelcome intruders, is a matter of contro- 
versy. The owls are of a peculiar kind, and would seem to 
partake of the character of the hawk : for they are taller and 
more erect on their le^s, more alert in their looks and rapid in 
their flight than ordinary owls, and do not confine their ex- 
cursions to the night, but sally forth in broad day. 

Some say that they only inhabit cells which the prairie 
dogs have deserted, and suffered to go to ruin, in consequence 
of the death in them of some relative ; for they would make 
out this little animal to be endowed with keen sensibilities, 
that will not permit it to remain in the dwelling where it has 
witnessed the death of a friend. Other fanciful speculators 
represent the owl as a kind of housekeex^er to the prairie dog ; 
and, from having a note very sunilar, insinuate that it acts, 
in a manner, as family x:>recei)tor, and teaches the young litter 
to bark. 

As to the rattlesnake, nothing satisfactory has been ascer- 
tained" of the part he plays in this most interesting household ; 
though he is considered as little better than a sycophant and 
sharper, that winds himself into the concerns of the honest, 
credulous little dog, and takes him in most sadly. Certain it 
is, if he acts as toad-eater, he occasionally solaces himself with 
more than the usual perquisites of his order ; as he is now and 
then detected with one of the younger members of the family 
m his maw. 

Such are a few of the particulars that I could gather about 
the domestic economy of this little inhabitant of tlie prairies, 
who, with his pigmy republic, appears to be a subject of much 
wliimsical speculation and burlesque remarks among the hun- 
ters of the Far West. 

It was toward evening that I set out with a companion, to 
visit the village in question. Unluckily, it had been invaded 
in the course of the day by some of the rangers, who had shot 
two or three of its inhabitants, and thrown the whole sensitive 
community in confusion. As we approached, we could per- 
ceive numbers of the inhabitants seated at the entrances of 
their cells, while sentinels seemed to have been posted on the 
outskirts, to keep a look-out. At sight of us, the picket 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 123 

guards scampered in and gave the alarm; whereupon every 
inhabitant gave a short yelp, or bark, and dived into his hole, 
liis heels twinkling in the air as if he had thrown a somersault. 

We traversed the whole village, or republic, which covered 
an area of about thirty acres ; but not a whisker of an inhabi- 
tant was to be seen. We probed their cells as far as the ram- 
rods of our rifles would reach, but could unearth neither dog, 
nor owl, nor rattlesnake. Moving quietly to a httle distance, 
we lay down upon the ground, and watched for a long time, 
silent and motionless. Bj and by, a cautious old burgher 
would slowly put forth the end of liis nose, but instantly draw 
it in again. x\nother, at a greater distance, would emerge 
entirely; but, catching a glance of us, would throw a somer- 
sault, and plunge back again into his hole. At length, some 
who resided on the opposite side of the village, taking courage 
from the continued stillness, would steal forth, and hurry off 
to a distant hole, the residence possibly of some family connec- 
tion, or gossiping friend, about whose safety they were sohci- 
tous, or with whom they wished to compare notes about the 
late occurrences. 

Others, still more bold, assembled in little knots, in the 
streets and public places, as if to discuss the recent outrages 
offered to the commonwealth, and the atrocious murders of 
their fellow-burghers. 

We rose from the ground and moved forward, to take a 

nearer view of these public proceedings, when yelp ! yelp ! yelp ! 

-there was a shrill alarm passed from mouth to mouth; the 

meetings suddenly dispersed ; feet twinkled in the air in every 

direction ; and in an instant aU had vanished into the earth. 

The dusk of the evening put an end to our observations, but 
the train of whimsical comparisons produced in my brain by 
the moral attributes which I had heard given to these httle 
politic animals, still continued after my return to camp ; and 
Lite in the night, as I lay awake after all the camp was asleep, 
and heard in the stillness of the hour, a faint clamor of shriD 
voices from the distant village, I could not help picturing to 
myself the inhabitants gathered together in noisy assemblage 
and windy debate, to devise plans for the public safety, and 
to vindicate the invaded rights and insulted dignity of the rs' 
public. 



124 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A COUNCIL IN THE CAMP. — REASONS FOR FACING HOMEWARD. — 
HORSES LOST. — DEPARTURE WITH A DETACHMENT ON THE 
HOMEWARD ROUTE. — SWAMP. — WILD HORSE. — CAMP SCENES BY 
NIGHT. — THE OWL, HARBINGER OF DAWN. 

While breakfast was preparing, a council was held as to our 
future movements. Symptoms of discontent had appeared for 
a day or two past among the rangers, most of whom, unaccus- 
tomed to the life of the prairies, had become impatient of its 
privations, as well as the restraints of the camp. The want of 
bread had been felt severely, and they were wearied with con- 
stant travel. In fact, the novelty and excitement of the expe- 
dition were at an end. They had hunted the deer, the bear, the 
elk, the buffalo, and the wild horse, and had no further object 
of leading interest to look forward to. A general inclination 
prevailed, therefore, to turn homeward. 

Grave reasons disposed the Captain and his officers to adopt 
this resolution. Our horses were generally much jaded by the 
fatigues of travelling and hunting, and had fallen away sadly 
for want of good pasturage, and from being tethered at night, 
to protect them from Indian depredations. The late rains, too, 
seemed to have washed away the nourishment from the scanty 
herbage that remained ; and since our encampment during the 
storm, our horses had lost flesh and strength rapidly. With 
every possible care, horses, accustomed to grain, and to the 
regular and plentiful nourishment of the stable and the farm, 
lose heart and condition in travelling on the prairies. In all 
expeditions of the kind we were engaged in, the hardy Indian 
horses, which are generally mustangs, or a cross of the wild 
breed, are to be preferred. They can stand all fatigues, hard- 
ships, and privations, and thrive on the grasses and the Avild 
herbage of the plains. 

Our men, too, had acted with little forethought ; galloping oft' 
whenever they had a chance, after the game that we encoun- 
tered while on the march. In this way they had strained and 
wearied their horses, instead of husbanding their strength and 
spirits. On a tour of the kind, horses should as seldom as pos- 
sible be put off of a quiet walk; and the average day's journey 
should not exceed ten miles. 

We had hoped, by pushing forward, to reach the bottoms of 



A TOUR ON TlIK PRAIRIES. 125 

the Red River, which abound with young cane, a most nourish- 
ing forage for cattle at this season of the year. It would now 
take us several days to arrive there, and in the meantime 
many of our horses would probably give out. It was the time, 
too, when the hunting parties of Indians set fire to the prairies ; 
the herbage, throughout this part of the country, was in that 
parched state, favorable to combustion, and there was daily 
more and more risk that the prairies between us and the fort 
would be set on fire by some of the return parties of Osages, 
and a scorched desert left for us to traverse. In a word, we 
had started too late in the season, or loitered too much in the 
early part of our march, to accomplish our originally intended 
tour ; and there was imminent hazard, if we continued on, that 
we should lose the greater part of our horses; and, besides 
suffering various other inconveniences, be obliged to return 
on foot. It was determined, therefore, to give up all further 
progress, and, turning our faces to the southeast, to make the 
best of our way back to Fort Gibson. 

This resolution being taken, there was an immediate eagerness 
to put it into operation. Several horses, however, were miss- 
ing, and among others those of the Captain and the Surgeon. 
Persons had gone in search of them, but the morning advanced 
without any tidings of them. Our party, in the meantime, 
being all ready for a march, the Commissionor determined to 
set off in the advance, with his original escort of a heutenant 
and fourteen rangers, leaving the Captain to come on at his 
convenience, with the main body. At ten o'clock we accord- 
ingly started, under the guidance of Beatte, who had hunted 
over this part of the country, and knew the direct route to thft 
garrison. 

For some distance we skirted the prairie, keeping a south- 
east direction ; and in the course of our ride we saw a variety 
of wild animals, deer, white and black wolves, buffaloes, and 
wild horses. To the latter, our half-breeds and Tonish gave 
ineffectual chase, only serving to add to the weariness of their 
already jaded steeds. Indeed it is rarely that any but the 
weaker and least fleet of the wild horses are taken in these hard 
racings ; while the horse of the huntsman is prone to be knocked 
up. The latter, in fact, risks a good horse to catch a bad one. 
On this occasion, Tonish, who was a perfect imp on horseback, 
and noted for ruining every animal he bestrode, succeeded in 
laming and almost disabling the powerful gray on which we 
had mounted him at the outset of our tour. 



126 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

After proceeding a few miles, we left the prairie, and struck 
to the east, taking what Beatte pronounced an old Osage war- 
track. This led us through a rugged tract of country, over- 
grown with scrubbed forests and entangled thickets, and 
intersected by deep ravines, and brisk-running streams, the 
sources of Little River. About three o'clock, we encamped by 
some pools of water in a small valley, having come about four- 
iteen miles. We had brought on a supply of provisions from 
our last camp, and supped heartily upon stewed buffalo meat, 
roasted venison, beignets, or fritters of flour fried in bear's lard, 
and tea made of a species of the golden-rod, which we had 
found, throughout our whole route, almost as grateful a beve- 
rage as coffee. Indeed our coffee, which, as long as it held out, 
had been served up with every meal, according to the custom 
of the West, was by no means a beverage to boast of. It was 
roasted in a frying-pan, without much care, pounded in a 
leathern bag, with a round stone, and boiled in our prime and 
almost only kitchen utensil, the camp kettle, in ' ' branch" or 
brook water ; which, on the prairies, is deeply colored by the 
soil, of which it always holds abundant particles in a state of 
solution and suspension. In fact, in the course of our tour, we 
had tasted the quality of every variety of soil, and the draughts 
of water we had taken might vie in diversity of color, if not of 
flavor, with the tinctures of an apothecary's shop. Pure, 
limpid water is a rare luxury on the prairies, at least at this 
season of the year. Supper over, we placed sentinels about our 
scanty and diminished camp, spread our skins and blankets 
under the trees, now nearly destitute of foliage, and slept 
soundly until morning. 

We had a beautiful daybreak. The camp again resounded 
with cheerful voices; every one was animated with the 
thoughts of soon being at the fort, and revelling on bread and 
vegetables. Even our saturnine man, Beatte, seemed inspired 
on this occasion ; and as he drove up the horses for the march, 
I heard him singing, in nasal tones, a most forlorn Indian 
ditty. All this transient gayety, however, soon died away 
amidst the fatigues of our march, which lay through the same 
kind of rough, hilly, thicketed country as that of yesterday. 
In the course of the morning we arrived at the valley of the 
Little Eiver, where it wound through a broad bottom of allu- 
vial soil. At present it had overflowed its banks, and inun- 
dated a great part of the valley. The difficulty was to distin- 
guish the stream from the broad sheets of water it had formed, 



A TOUR OX THE PRAIRIES. \Ti 

and to find a place where it might be forded ; for it was in 
general deep and miry, with abrupt crumbling banks. Under 
the pilotage of Beatte, therefore, we wandered for some time 
among the hnks made by this winding stream, in what ap- 
peared to us a trackless labyrinth of swamps, thickets, and 
standing pools. Sometimes our jaded horses dragged their 
limbs forward with the utmost difficulty, having to toil for a 
great distance, with the water up to the stirrups, and beset at 
the bottom with roots and creepmg plants. Sometimes we 
had to force our way through dense thickets of brambles and 
grapevines, which almost pulled us out of our saddles. In one 
place, one of the pack-horses sunk in the mire and fell on his 
side, so as to be extricated with great difficulty. Wherever 
the soil was bare, or there was a sand-bank, we beheld in- 
numerable tracks of bears, wolves, mid horses, turkeys, and 
water-fowl; showing the abundant sport this valley might 
afford to the huntsman. Our men, however, were sated with 
hunting, and too weary to be excited by these signs, which in 
the outset of our tour would have put them in a fever of antici- 
pation. Their only desire, at present, was to push on doggedly 
for the fortress. 

At length we succeeded in finding a fording place, where we 
all crossed Little Eiver, with the water and mire to the saddle- 
girths, and then halted for an hour and a half, to overhaul the 
wet baggage, and give the horses time to rest. 

On resuming our march, we came to a pleasant little mea- 
dow, surrounded by groves of elms and cotton wood trees, in 
the midst of which was a fine black horse grazing. Beatte, 
who was in the advance, beckoned us to halt, and, being 
mounted on a mare, approached the horse gently, step by step, 
imitating the whinny of the animal with admirable exactness. 
The noble courser of the prairie gazed for a time, snuffed the 
air, neighed, pricked up his ears, and pranced round and round 
the mare in gallant style ; but kept at too great a distance for 
Beatte to throw the lariat. He was a magnificent object, in 
all the pride and glory of his nature. It was admirable to see 
the lofty and airy carriage of his head ; the freedom of every 
movement; the elasticity with which he trod the meadow. 
Finding it impossible to get within noosing distance, and seeing 
that the horse was receding and growing alarmed, Beatte slid 
down from his saddle, levelled his rifle across the back of his 
mare, and took aim, with the evident intention of creasing 
him. I felt a throb of anxiety for the safety of the noble ani 



128 ^ TOUR ON TIIK PHAJRIES. 

mal, and called out to Beatte to desist. It was too late; he 
pulled the trigger as I spoke ; luckily he did not shoot with 
his usual accuracy, and I had the satisfaction to see the coal- 
black steed dash off unharmed into the forest. 

On leaving this valley, we ascended among broken hills and 
rugged, ragged forests, equally harassing to horse and rider. 
The ravines, too, were of red clay, and often so steep that, in 
descending, the horses would put their feet together and fairly 
slide down, and then scramble up the opposite side like cats. 
Here and there, among the thickets in the valleys, we met with 
sloes and persimmon, and the eagerness with which our men 
broke from the line of march, and ran to gather these poor 
fruits, showed how much they craved some vegetable condi- 
ment, after living so long exclusively on animal food. 

About half past three we encamped near a brook in a mea- 
dow, where there was some scanty herbage for our half -fam- 
ished horses. As Beatte had killed a fat doe in the course of 
the day, and one of our company a fine turkey, we did not lack 
for provisions. 

It was a splendid autumnal evening. The horizon, after 
sunset, was of a clear apple green, rising into a delicate lake 
which gradually lost itself in a deep purple blue. One narrow 
streak of cloud, of a mahogany color, edged with amber and 
gold, floated in the west, and just beneath it was the evening 
star, shining with the pure brilliancy of a diamond. In unison 
with this scene, there was an evening concert of insects of 
various kinds, all blended and harmonized into one sober and 
somewhat melancholy note, which I have always found to 
have a soothing effect upon the mind, disposing it to quiet 
musings. 

The night that succeeded was calm and beautiful. There 
was a faint light from the moon, now in its second quarter, 
and after it had set, a fine starlight, with shooting meteors. 
The wearied rangers, after a little murmuring conversation 
round their fires, sank to rest at an early hour, and I seemed 
to have the whole scene to myself. It is delightful, in thus 
bivouacking on the prairies, to lie awake and gaze at the stars ; 
it is like watching them from the deck of a ship at sea, when 
at one view we have the whole cope of heaven. One realizes, 
in such lonely scenes, that companionship with these beautiful 
luminaries which made astronomers of the eastern shepherds, 
as they watched their flocks by night. How often, while con- 
tei/' plating their mild and benignant radiance, I have called to 



A TOUR ON TUE PRAIRIES. 129 

mind tke exquisite text of Job: ''Canst thou bind the secret 
influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?" I do 
not know why it was, but I felt this night unusually affected 
by the solemn magnificence of the firmament; and seemed, as 
I lay thus under the open vault of heaven, to inhale with the 
pure untainted air, an exhilarating buoyancy of spirit, and, as it 
were, an ecstasy of mind. I slept and waked alternately ; and 
when I slept, my dreams partook of the happy tone of my 
waking reveries. Toward morning, one of the sentinels, the 
oldest man in the troop, came and took a seat near me ; he 
was weary and sleepy, and impatient to be relieved. I found 
he had been gazing at the heavens also, but with different 
feehngs. 

"If the stars don't deceive me," said he, "it is near day- 
break." 

"There can be no doubt of that," said Beatte, who lay close 
foy. "I heard an owl just now." 

" Does the owl, then, hoot toward daybreak?" asked 1. 

" Aye, sir, just as the cock crows." 

This was a useful habitude of the bird of wisdom, of which 
I was not aware. Neither the stars nor owl deceived their 
votaries. In a short time there was a faint streak of light in 
the east. 



CHAPTER XXXIY. 

OLD CREEK ENCAMPMENT.— SCARCITY OF PROVISIONS. — BAD 
WEATHER. — WEARY MARCHING.— A HUNTER'S BRIDGE. 

The country through which we passed this morning (Novem- 
ber 2d), was less rugged, and of more agreeable aspect than 
that we had lately traversed. At eleven o'clock, we came out 
upon an extensive prairie, and about six miles to our left be- 
held a long line of green forest, marking the course of the 
north fork of the Arkansas. On the edge of the prairie, and 
in a spacious grove of noble trees which overshadowed a small 
brook, were the traces of an old Creek hunting camp. On the 
bark of the trees were rude delineations of hunters and squaws, 
scrawled with charcoal ; together with various signs and hiero- 
glyphics, which our half-breeds interpreted as indicating that 
from this encampment the hunters had returned home. 



130 A TOUR ON THE PBAIRIB8. 

In this beautiful camping ground we made our mid-dp.y halt. 
While reposing under the trees, we heard a shouting at no 
great distance, and presently the Captain and the main body 
of rangers, whom we had left behind two days since, emerged 
from the thickets, and crossing the brook, were joyfully wel* 
comed into the camp. The Captain and the Doctor had been 
unsuccessful in the search after their horses, and were obliged 
to march for the greater part of the time on foot ; yet they had 
come on with more than ordinary speed. 

We resumed our march about one o'clock, keeping easterly, 
and approaching the north fork obliquely ; it was late before 
we found a good camping place ; the beds of the streams were 
dry, the prairies, too, had been burnt in various places, by 
Indian hunting parties. At length we found water in a small 
alluvial bottom, where there was tolerable pasturage. 

On the following morning there were flashes of lightning in 
the east, with low, rumbling thunder, and clouds began to 
gather about the horizon. Beatte prognosticated rain, and 
that the wind would veer to the north. In the course of our 
march, a flock of brant were seen overhead, flying from the 
north. "There comes the wind!" said Beatte; and, in fact, it 
began to blow from that quarter almost immediately, with 
occasional flurries of rain. About half past nine o'clock, we 
forded the north fork of the Canadian, and encamped about 
one, that our hunters might have time to beat up the neigh- 
borhood for game ; for a serious scarcity began to prevail in 
the camp. Most of the rangers were young, heedless, and 
inexperienced, and could not be prevailed upon, while pro- 
visions abounded, to provide for the future, by jerking meat, 
or carry away any on their horses. On leaving an encamp- 
ment, they would leave quantities of meat lying about, trust- 
ing to Providence and their rifles for a future supply. The 
consequence was, that any temporary scarcity of game, or 
ill-luck in hunting, produced ahnost a famine in the camp. 
In the present instance, they had left loads of buffalo meat at 
the camp on the great prairie ; and, having ever since been on 
a forced march, leaving no time for hunting, they were now 
destitute of supplies, and pinched with hunger. Some had not 
eaten anything since the morning of the preceding day. 
Nothing would have persuaded them, when revelling in the 
abundance of the buffalo encampment, that they would so 
soon be in such famishing plight. 

The hunters returned with indifferent success. The game 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIlilES. 131 

• 
had been frightened away from this part of the country by 
Indian hunting parties, which had preceded us. Ten or a 
dozen wild turkeys were brought in, but not a deer had been 
seen. The rangers began to think turkeys and even prairie- 
hens deserving of attention; game wliich they had hitherto 
considered unworthy of their rifles. 

The night was cold and windy, with occasional sprinklings 
of rain ; but we had roaring fires to keep us comfortable. In 
the night, a flight of wild geese passed over the camp, making 
a great cackling in the aii- ; symptoms of approaching winter. 

We set forward at an early hour the next morning, in a 
northeast course, and came upon the trace of a party of Creek 
Indians, which enabled our poor horses to travel with more 
ease. We entered upon a fine champaign country. From a ris- 
ing ground we had a noble prospect, over extensive prairies, 
finely diversified by groves and tracts of woodland, and 
bounded by long fines of distant hiUs, all clothed with the 
rich mellow tmts of autumn. Game, too, was more plenty. 
A fine buck sprang up from among the herbage on our right, 
and dashed off at full speed ; but a young ranger by the name 
of Childers, who was on foot, levelled his rifle, discharged a 
ball that broke the neck of the bounding deer, and sent him 
tumbUng head over heels forward. Another buck and a doe, 
besides several turkeys, were killed before we came to a halt, 
so that the hungry mouths of the troop were once more sup- 
plied. 

About three o'clock we encamped in a grove after a forced 
march of twenty-five miles, that had proved a hard trial to 
■•■^he horses. For a long time after the head of the fine had 
encamped, the rest kept straggling in, two and three at a time; 
one of our pack-horses had given out, about nine miles back, 
and a pony belonging to Beatte, shortly after. Many of the 
other horses looked so gaunt and feeble, that doubts were 
entertained of their being able to reach the fort. In the night 
there was heavy rain, and the morning dawned cloudy and 
dismal. The camp resounded, however, with something of its 
former gayety. The rangers had supped well, and were reno- 
vated in spirits, anticipating a speedy arrival at the garrison. 
Before we set forward on our march, Beatte returned, and 
brought his pony to the camp with great diificulty. The 
pack-horse, however, was completely knocked up and had to 
be abandoned. The wild mare, to, had cast her foal, through 
exhaustion, and was not m a state to go forward. She and 



132 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

the pony, therefore, were left at this encampment, where 
there was water and good pasturage ; and where there would 
be a chance of their reviving, and being afterward sought 
out and brought to the garrison. 

We set off about eight o'clock, and had a day of weary and 
harassing travel ; part of the time over rough hills, and part 
over rolling prairies. The rain had rendered the soil slippery 
and plashy, so as to afford unsteady foothold. Some of the 
rangers dismounted, their horses having no longer strength to 
bear them. We made a halt in the course of the morning, but 
the horses were too tired to graze. Several of them lay down, 
and there was some difficulty in getting them on their feet 
again. Our troop presented a forlorn appearance, straggling 
slowly along, in a broken and scattered line, that extended 
over hill and dale, for three miles and upward, in groups of 
three and four, widely apart; some on horseback, some on 
foot, with a few laggards far in the rear. About four o'clock, 
we halted for the night in a spacious forest, beside a deep nar- 
row river, called the Little North Fork, or Deep Creek. It 
was late before the main part of the troop straggled into the 
encampment, many of the horses having given out. As this 
stream was too deep to be forded, we waited until the next 
day to devise means to cross it ; but our half-breeds swam the 
horses of our party to the other side in the evening, as they 
would have better pasturage, and the stream was evidently 
swelling. The night was cold and unruly ; the wind sounding 
hoarsely through the forest and whirling about the dry leaves. 
We made long fires of great trunks of trees, which diffused 
something of consolation if not cheerfulness around. 

The next morning there was general permission given to 
hunt until twelve o'clock ; the camp being destitute of provi- 
sions. The rich woody bottom in which we were encamped 
abounded with wild turkeys, of which a considerable number 
were killed. In the meantime, preparations were made for 
crossing the river, which had risen several feet during the 
night ; and it was determined to fell trees for the purpose, to 
serve as bridges. 

The Captain and Doctor, and one or two other leaders of 
the camp, versed in woodcraft, examined, with learned eye, 
the trees growing on the river bank, until they singled out a 
couple of the largest size, and most suitable inclinations. The 
axe was then vigorously applied to their roots, in such a way 
as to insure their falHng directly across the stream. As they 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 133 

did not reach to the opposite bank, it was necessary for some 
of the men to swim across and fell trees on the other side, to 
meet them. They at length succeeded in making a precarious 
footway across the deep and rapid current, by which the bag- 
gage could be carried over ; but it was necessary to grope our 
way, step by step, along the trunks and main branches of the 
trees, which for a part of the distance were completely sub- 
merged, so that we were to our waists in water. Most of the 
horses were then swam across, but some of them were too 
weak to brave the current, and evidently too much knocked 
up to bear any further travel. Twelve men, therefore, were 
left at the encampment to guard these horses, until, by repose 
and good pasturage, they should be sufficiently recovered to 
complete their journey ; and the Captain engaged to send the 
men a supply of flour and other necessaries, as soon as we 
should arrive at the fort. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



A LOOK-OUT FOR LAND.— HARD TRAVELLING AND HUNGRY HALT- 
ING. — A FRONTIER FARMHOUSE. — ARRIVAL AT THE GARRISON. 

It was a little after one o'clock when we again resumed our 
weary wayfaring. The residue of that day and the whole of 
the next were spent in toilsome travel. Part of the way was 
over stony hills, part across wide prairies, rendered spongy 
and miry by the recent rain, and cut up by brooks swollen into 
torrents. Our poor horses were so feeble, that it was with 
difficulty we could get them across the deep ravines and turbu- 
lent streams. In traversing the miry plains, they slipped and 
staggered at every step, and most of us were obliged to dis- 
mount and walk for the greater part of the way. Hunger pre- 
vailed throughout the troop ; every one began to look anxious 
and haggard, and to feel the growing length of each additional 
mile. At one time, in crossing a hill, Beatte climbed a high 
tree, commanding a wide prospect, and took a look-out, like a 
mariner from the mast-head at sea. He came down with 
cheering tidings. To the left he had beheld a line of forest 
stretching across the country, Avhich he knew to be the woody 
border of the Arkansas ; and at a distance he had recognized 



134 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

certain landmarks, from which he concluded that we could 
not be above forty miles distant from the fort. It was like the 
welcome cry of land to tempest-tossed mariners. 

In fact we soon after saw smoke rising from a woody glen at 
a distance. It was supposed to be made by a hunting-party of 
Creek or Osage Indians from the neighborhood of the fort, 
and was joyfully hailed as a harbinger of man. It was now 
confidently hoped that we would soon arrive among the fron- 
tier hamlets of Creek Indians, which are scattered along the 
skirts of the uninhabited wilderness ; and our hungry rangers 
trudged forward with reviving spirit, regaling themselves 
with savory anticipations of farmhouse luxuries, and enume- 
rating every article of good cheer, until their mouths fairly 
watered at the shadowy feasts thus conjured up. 

A hungry night, however, closed in upon a toilsome day. 
We encamped on the border of one of the tributary streams of 
the Arkansas, amidst the ruins of a stately grove that had 
been riven by a hurricane. The blast had torn its way through 
the forest in a narrow column, and its course was marked by 
enormous trees shivered and sphntered, and upturned, with 
their roots in the air ; aU lay in one direction, hke so many 
brittle reeds broken and trodden down by the hunter. 

Here was fuel in abundance, without the labor of the axe ,• 
we had soon immense fires blazing and sparkling in the frosty 
air, and lighting up the whole forest; but, alas! we had no 
meat to cook at them. The scarcity in the camp almost 
amounted to famine. Happy was he who had a morsel of 
jerked meat, or even the half -picked bones of a former repast. 
For our part, we were more lucky at our mess than our neigh- 
bors ; one of our men having shot a turkey. We had no bread 
to eat with it, nor salt to season it withal. It was simply 
boiled in water ; the latter was served up as soup, and we were 
fain to rub each morsel of the turkey on the empty salt-bag, 
in hopes some saHne particle might remain to relieve its in- 
sipidity. 

The night was biting cold ; the brilliant rrioonlight sparkled 
on the frosty crystals which covered every object around us. 
The water froze beside the skins on which we bivouacked, and 
in the morning I found the blanket in which I was wrapped 
covered with a hoar frost ; yet I had never slept more com- 
fortably. 

After a shadow of a breakfast, consisting of turkey bones 
and a cup of coffee without sugar, we decamped at an early 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. I35 

hour; for hunger is a sharp quickener on a journey. The 
prairies were all gemined with frost, that covered the tall 
Weeds and glistened in the sun. We saw great flights of 
prairie-hens, or groUse, that hovered from tree to tree, or sat 
in rows along the naked branches, waiting until the sun should 
melt the frost from the weeds and herbage. Our rangers no 
longer despised such humble game, but turned from the ranks 
in pursuit of a prairie-hen as eagerly as they foiinerly would 
go in pursuit of a deer. 

Every one now pushed forward, anxious to arrive at some 
human habitation before night. The poor horses were urged 
beyond their strength, in the thought of soon being able to 
indemnify them for present toil, by rest and ample provender. 
Still the distances seemed to stretch out more than ever, and 
the blue hills, pointed out as landmarks on the horizon, to 
recede as we advanced. Every step became a labor; every 
now and then a miserable horse would give out and lie down. 
His owner would raise him by main strength, force him for- 
ward to the margin of some stream, where there might be a 
scanty border of herbage, and then abandon him to his fate. 
Among those that were thus left on the way, was one of the 
led horses of the Count ; a prime hunter, that had taken the 
lead of every thing in the chase of the wild horses. It was 
intended, however, as soon as we should arrive at the fort, to 
send out a party provided with corn, to bring in such of the 
horses as should survive. 

In the course of the morning, we came upon Indian tracks, 
crossing each other in various directions, a proof that we must 
be in the neighborhood of human habitations. At length, on 
passing through a skirt of wood, we beheld two or three log 
houses, sheltered under lofty trees on the border of a prairie, 
the habitations of Creek Indians, who had small farms adja- 
cent. Had they been sumptuous villas, abounding with the 
luxuries of civilization, they could not have been hailed with 
greater delight. 

Some of the rangers rode up to them in quest of food ; the 
greater part, however, pushed forward in search of the habita- 
tion of a white settler, which we were told was at no great dis- 
tance. The troop soon disappeared among the trees, and I 
followed slowly in their track ; for my once fleet and generous 
steed faltered under me, and was just able to drag one foot 
after the other, yet I was too weary and exhausted to spare him. 

In this way we crept on, until, on turning a thick clump of 



136 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

trees, a frontier farmhouse suddenly presented itself to view. 
It was a low tenement of logs, overshadowed by great forest 
trees, but it seemed as if a very region of Cocaigne prevailed 
around it. Here was a stable and barn, and granaries teem- 
ing with abundance, while legions of grunting swine, gobbling 
turkeys, cackling hens and strutting roosters, swarmed about 
the farmyard. 

My poor jaded and half -famished horse raised his head and 
pricked up his ears at the well-known sights and sounds. He 
gave a chuckling inward sound, som.ething like a dry laugh ; 
whisked his tail, and made great leeway toward a corn-crib, 
filled with golden ears of maize, and it was with some difficulty 
that I could control his course, and steer him up to the door 
of the cabin. A single glance within was sufficient to raise 
every gastronomic faculty. There sat the Captain of the 
rangers and his officers, round a thi-ee-legged table, crowned 
by a broad and smoking dish of boiled beef and turnips. I 
eprang off my horse in an instant, cast him loose to make his 
way to the corn-crib, and entered this palace of plenty. A fat 
good-humored negress received niQ at the door. She was the 
mistress of the house, the spouse of the white man, who was 
absent. I hailed her as some swart fairy of the wild, that had 
suddenly conjured up a banquet in the desert ; and a banquet 
was it in good sooth. In a twinkling, she lugged from the fire 
a huge iron pot, that might have rivalled one of the famous 
flesh-pots of Egypt, or the witches' caldron in Macbeth. 
Placing a brown earthen dish on the floor, she inclined the 
corpulent caldron on one side, and out leaped sundry great 
morsels of beef, with a regiment of turnips tumbling after 
them, and a rich cascade of broth overflowing the whole. 
This she handed me with an ivory smile that extended from 
ear to ear; apologizing for our humble fare, and the humble 
style in which it was served up. Humble fare ! humble style ! 
Boiled beef and turnips, and an earthen dish to eat them from ! 
To think of apologizing for such a treat to a half -starved man 
from the prairies; and then such magnificent slices of bread 
and butter ! Head of Apicius, what a banquet ! 

"The rage of hunger" being appeased, I began to think of 
my horse. He, however, like an old campaigner, had taken 
good care of himself. I found him paying assiduous attention 
to the crib of Indian corn, and dexterously drawing forth and 
mimcliins: the ears that protruded between the bars. It was 
with great regret that I interrupted his repast, which he 



A TOUR ON THE VIIAIUIKIS. 137 

abandoned with a heavy sigh, or rather a inimbHng groan. I 
was anxious, however, to rejoin my travelhng companions, 
who had passed by the farmhouse without stopping, and pro- 
ceeded to the banks, of the Arkansas; being in hopes of arriv- 
ing before night at the Osage Agency. Leaving the Captain 
and liis troop, therefore, amidst the abundance of the farm, 
where they had determined to quarter themselves for the niglit, 
I bade adieu to our sable hostess, and again pushed lorward. 

A ride of about a mile brought me to where my comrades 
were waiting on the banks of the Arkansas, which here poured 
along between beautiful forests. A number of Creek Indians, 
in their brightly colored dresses, looking hke so many gay 
tropical birds, were busy aiding our men to transport the bag- 
gage across the river in a canoe. While this was doing, our 
horses had another regale from two great cribs heaped up 
with ears of Indian corn, which stood near the edge of the 
river. We had to keep a check upon the poor half -famished 
animals, lest they should injure tliemselves by their voracity. 

The baggage being all carried to the opposite bank, we em- 
barked in the canoe, and swam our horses across the river. I 
was fearful, lest in their enfeebled state, they should not be 
able to stem the current ; but their banquet of Indian corn had 
already infu ed fresh life and spirit into them, and it would 
appear as if they were cheered by the instinctive conscious- 
ness of their approach to home, where they would soon be at 
rest, and in plentiful quarters ; for no sooner had we landed 
and resumed our route, than they set oft on a hand-gallop, and 
continued so for a great part of seven miles, that we had to 
ride through the woods. 

It was an early hour in the evening when we arrived at the 
Agency, on the banks of the Verdigris River, whence w^e had 
set off about a month before. Here we passed the night com- 
fortably quartered; yet, after having been accustomed to 
sleep in the open air, the confinement of a chamber was, in 
some respects, irksome. The atmosphere seemed close, and 
destitute of freshness; and when I woke in the night and 
gazed about me upon complete darkness, I missed the glorious 
companionship of the stars. 

The next morning, after breakfast, I again set forward, in 
company with the worthy Commissioner, for Fort Gibson, 
where we arrived much tattered, travel-stained, and weather- 
beaten, but in high health and spirits;— and thus ended my 
foray into the Pawnee Hunting Grounds. 



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